#you are his trusty assistant through all this

[seiwas]

atsumu’s pr team the type to put him into every possible thing—sports ads, energy drink endorsements, hair care commercials, tiktok trends, the whole thing.

at some point the miya twins try to start a podcast but it’s 30 minutes of them bickering, so it ends after 5 episodes. a youtube channel doesn’t do any better.

but it’s in his mid-late twenties that a movie is pitched to him and his pr team is all over it, marketing him as the up-and-coming romcom heartthrob of the next decade.

atsumu has never acted a day in his life, and sure, he’s hot, has a charmer of a smile and the physique of a god. but the moment he speaks, all of that gets thrown out the window immediately.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (2)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n : aaand I just couldn't let this storyline go. Typical. Best to read part one before this one :)

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The reader and Ewan have gotten a lot closer since the press tour for season two, but neither one has made a move. The reader is spotted with another costar, giving rise to rumours of romance.

The press tour came and went like a fever dream. From Paris to New York to London, everyone had been highly anticipating your upcoming show.

Albeit you had a minor role, it all seemed like everything you could ever wish for.

A blossoming career. Lifelong friends made from your peers. The overwhelming support from audiences.

Only two episodes have since been released to the public, and already your character has become a fan-favourite.

Sadly, you and Ewan only had that one press day together, after which you were paired with other cast members. That didn't stop the onslaught of comments under your interviews with him, fans stating how good you looked together. Speculating whether there was something going on between you two.

You are good friends, but that's all.

He calls you often, mostly in the evenings after you're both finished with work. He sticks close to you during premiere after-parties. Now and again, you would catch him looking at you from across the room.

But... well... that's all there is to that.

Maybe he's just being nice. Maybe he only sees you as a good friend, and this is just how he is. With his effortless charm and cheeky remarks that can be mistaken as flirting, you think that maybe you're reading too much into it all.

"Ewan likes you, you know," Phia looks at you over her shoulder, as she does her makeup in front of your dresser.

The cast is having a private get-together in Fabien's apartment for a night, and yourself and Phia decide to prep together, her own place only being five minutes away from yours.

"He's just being nice," you shake your head at her observation, as you sift through your closet looking for a top.

"He's not that nice to everyone," Phia laughs. "Trust me, that lad fancies you and it's plain as day. Ask anyone, I mean, Tom even pointed it out the other day."

"And Ewan was there with you guys?"

"Uh-huh," Phia swivels her chair around, all done, nodding at you, "Poor sod just about turned red as a beet."

"What did he say?" you ask, not even bothering to hide your curiosity. Phia's got your back, after all.

"Well..." Phia glanced away, weighing just how much she is at liberty to say. Ewan's her friend just as much as you are, and she doesn't know how deep she can meddle in this.

"How bad is it?"

"Nothing bad, promise," Phia walks over, then takes over the task of sorting through your closet, "He likes you. A lot. But it seems like he's apprehensive about jumping into a relationship right now."

You plop down on your bed in a huff, "I guess that makes sense."

"Chin up, darling," Phia turns around, arms folded behind her, concealing her chosen top for you. "You're both rising stars, with great careers ahead of you. If you're going to commit to each other, you're gonna have to do it right."

You smile, because you can't help it, the high from landing your dream career not yet subsiding.

"And," Phia continues, "even if he's too chicken to make a move, that doesn't mean you can't torture him with this." She grins, presenting a green satin top, the material weightless and shimmering.

"This? Are you sure?" It was definitely revealing, and it would have your back exposed, only tied together by two strings.

"Ewan loves green," she hands it to you, and you hold it up with concern etched in your features.

"I guess I could wear this," you mumble.

"Oh, you will wear it," Phia smirks, pushing you over to your bathroom so you can get changed.

Already wearing your trusty pair of bootcut jeans, you shimmy into the slinky top, calling out to Phia so she can assist with securing the strings at your back.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," she beams at you in your bathroom mirror. "Ewan is going to melt at the sight of you, doll."

"Huh," you say, checking yourself out in the reflection. "Okay then, I think we're ready - "

Your phone rings, cutting you off. Phia beats you to it, and her face is scandalous when she raises your phone up like it's precious evidence.

Ewan's name flashes bright on the screen.

"Oh, look who it is!" Phia practically sings, "Lover boy."

"Give me that," you demand, reaching for your phone, but Phia quickly sidesteps you and presses the screen to answer the call.

You gasp, and the both of you struggle to keep down an incoming fit of giggles. Phia then clicks on the speaker mode, and Ewan can be heard saying your name, his tone a bit confused.

"Are you there?" Ewan asks.

"Yeah, I'm here," you take the phone, waving to Phia so she doesn't make a fuss.

"Hmm," he says. "I hope I'll be seeing you tonight. The party won't be as good without you."

"Well, Phia and I just finished getting ready," you glance at her, and she makes a kissy face at you.

"Hello, Mr. Whipped," she playfully cuts in with this greeting, effectively letting Ewan know he's on speaker.

You hear Ewan snort on the other end, before he says, "Hello to you too, Phi."

"We should be heading out in 15 minutes, and we'll be there on time," you let him know.

"Okay, I suppose I'll see you guys there," he replies.

"Okay." A beat of silence passes, and Phia just shrugs at you.

"I, uh - " he finally speaks up again, but hesitates.

"Yeah?"

He clears his throat, having decided on saying, "Nevermind. See you soon, darling."

The line cuts off. You slowly let your hand fall to the side, sighing at how it abruptly ended. Shaking off your worries, you look at Phia once more, and she already has her line all prepared. "See you soon, darling," she recites in a low voice, imitating Ewan.

"Oh, shush," you shove her playfully, and she shoves you right back.

"I can't wait to see you, darling," she continues teasing you, laughing, and you can't help but blush and smile, finding her endearing.

"Well, let's go," she says, picking up her things, "your darling boy of Derby awaits."

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Fabien greets you at the door with that perfect smile of his, arms outstretched to pull you and Phia into a hug.

"Welcome, welcome," he greets, leading you into his apartment, where most of the cast is already assembled, including Ewan.

You happily exchange pleasantries with everyone. Chatting with Emma and Olivia. Profusely thanking Matt when he gushes over your outfit. Catching up with Harry and Bethany. All the while sensing that Ewan watches you from somewhere in the room.

You're eventually directed by Tom to the corner table where Ewan and Phia share a loveseat, drinks in hand.

"I'll get you a drink," Tom kindly declares, heading to the kitchen.

"Thanks, Tom," you say. You sit next to Phia, leaving her between yourself and Ewan. You finally say to him, "Hey, you. How are you doing? Got here early?"

Ewan's jaw clenches and loosens, and you catch his eyes quickly drift down to rake over your figure. When he meets your eyes again, his pupils are considerably dilated.

The boy just shamelessly checked you out.

"Ewan," you hear Phia say, elbowing Ewan from beside him. "She just asked you a question, be polite." She wags her eyebrows at you, mouthing the words lover boy.

Ewan hears that, astute as he is, and it snaps him out of whatever haze he seemed to be stuck in.

He shakes his head at himself, offering a smile to you. "I got here just before you guys," he answers. His voice lowers when he adds, "You look really good, darling."

You smile in return. "Thanks. So do you."

Phia beams at the exchange, then makes some excuse of having to catch up with the others. The look she gives you before sliding off the seat reveals that she just wanted to give her two lovebirds some privacy.

"So," Ewan inches closer to you, his arm outstretched on the back of the seat, "how did the script turn out?"

"It was better than expected," you say. He refers to a script you told him about a week ago, for a potential project which will shoot in Atlanta in the fall. "I'm supposed to meet with the director pretty soon to discuss it further, but I think it might be the right fit."

"That's amazing," he expresses sincerely. "Rian Johnson's a brilliant director and they would be lucky to have you as their lead."

"Thanks, Ewan! Yeah, I'm really excited for it, it's a lot different from House of the Dragon, but I'm all in for the challenge, you know."

"Is it a drama film, or thriller, or - "

"Oh, it's a rom-com, actually."

"Oh," he nods, leaning back a little, like that needed a bit of processing. "And you'll have a romantic co-lead..."

"That's right, and - " you confirm.

He smirks, like he just thought of something amusing. "Well, maybe I could - "

But you finish your statement then, " - I think Jacob Elordi has just been selected as my partner in the film."

His face scrunches in apparent distaste, "Has he now?"

"Mhmm." You note the switches in his expression, how his face fell when you mentioned your upcoming co-star. He can't have something against Jacob; they already did a film together and it seemed like it went well on set.

That thing nags at you, that little spring of vanity and desire creating warmth in your stomach. That Ewan might be jealous.

Which is ridiculous, given your shared line of work. Besides, you were not together. What could he possibly be jealous over?

"You've worked with him, right? What's he like?" you continue the topic, keeping watch for the minutiae of his reactions.

"He's... he's a good actor, I guess. Dedicated and all that. Pleasant on set." His answer is curt, not giving away any details, tone flat like he's disinterested.

"Riiight," you nod slowly, smiling impishly at him to get him to lighten up, "I'm sure he'll be just as pleasant on our set then. Good to know."

He catches the look you're giving him, causing the corner of his lips to pull in a soft crooked smile. "Hmm, be that as it may... I think I'll do a much better job as your love interest, don't you?"

"Oh, will you now?" you lean forward, and he does the same.

"Yeah, didn't you hear?" he whispers conspiratorially, like there's a secret to be shared. "According to the internet, we have a lot of chemistry. Practically oozing with it, based on some comments I read."

"You've been lurking on comments? You? The last crusader against all social media?" you joke, fully knowing that he keeps a few shadow accounts just to keep up with how his work is being received by the public.

"Sure," he shrugs his shouders dramatically, " that, and also to stalk your page, of course."

"Oh, of course," you quip, "I wouldn't expect anything less."

You share another laugh, feeling light all over, and even lighter when his fingertips brush against your arm for a few seconds. Goosebumps erupt on your skin, and you sneakily rub your arms to cover the effect he had on you.

Tom reappears from the side, handing you a drink as promised, "What are you kids giggling about over here?"

"Nothing," you share, "just that Ewan is planning to join Instagram."

"A damn miracle, that!" Tom exclaims, lightly punching Ewan in the shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah," Ewan looks at you warmly, playing along, "you can be in charge of keeping my account running."

"Tough job. All those fan messages I'll have to answer."

"Yeah, you'll have to quit your day job," Tom adds jokingly. "It was fun while it lasted. The industry will miss you."

You feel a pressure by your shoulders, and notice that it's Ewan's arm snug behind you on the seat. In the midst of conversation, he must have drawn even closer. You glance down briefly and see his knees touching yours.

You nervously take a huge gulp of your drink. There is no hiding the effect he has on you now.

"Don't you two look cute?" Tom comments, then he stands right in front of the loveseat and puts his phone up. Before you can say anything, a clicking sound makes it clear that he has taken a photo of you and Ewan.

"Awww, I ship it," Tom gushes afterward as he looks at the photo. He then reaches over and passes his phone to you.

The image betrays what the both of you are probably struggling to hide - it's there, clear as day. The attraction, the tension, the chemistry. Ewan practically has his arm around you, looking at you intensely with the inscrutable spark in his eyes. His teeth lightly clamping down on his lip in desire.

There's a subtle scrunch between your eyebrows as you return Ewan's look, a result of trying to maintain composure when he is so close. But your posture is relaxed, almost cozying right up against him, showing just how comfortable you feel around him.

As Tom just said, you ship it.

If only.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Two weeks after the party at Fabien's, the main cast members of House of the Dragon are engaged in an additional round of promo work. Season two is at its peak, and the media is just clamoring to get more from the cast.

Some are booked for photoshoots, others for interviews.

While a minor character in the show, they also wanted you to take part in engaging with the press, but you are already busy with your upcoming film with Jacob. You're currently out in LA, doing rehearsals in preparation for the actual shoot.

Ewan is yet again lounging in a hotel suite, about to do an interview with Vanity Fair.

He sends you a text, in response to your complaint about a difficult scene.

You had shared, It's a pretty dramatic scene. What if I can't cry on command?

He easily texts back, You can do it, darling. Trust me, you're one of the most talented young actors I know.

- Thanks, Ewan. Good luck with your interview!

- Thank you, good luck with rehearsal. I miss --

Ewan pauses typing. I miss you, he aches to send. He does miss you so much. Why can't he just commit to it?

He ends up sending, I'll see you soon, in its place.

He knows he wants to do everything with you. Take you out on dates. Sweep you off your feet. Travel to wherever you will be filming just to see you. Confess how much he wants you.

Why can't he? It's terrifying to him, being with someone, in danger of falling in love - truly falling in love - with a fellow actor, and that relationship exposed to much public scrutiny.

He's always been a private person, so will he be able to handle all of that? Acting is his first love, and he's devoted to the craft. If he succumbs to his desire for you, will that cause him to go off track?

What if the relationship is not well-received? He is aware of how passionate fans can be. What if they cruelly decide to make you the object of their ire as a result? He can't possibly put you through that.

But... but fuck it.

The Aemond in him turns proud and defiant. Why can't he? Why shouldn't he?

He types another message in a second, then clicks send.

And I miss you.

His publicist walks over to him, giving him a few last-minute instructions. In a few minutes, the room is all composed and the interview is ready to begin.

The line of questioning has almost become routine-like for him, a far cry from when he first started giving shorter interviews for previous projects.

The answers flow from him smoothly, stemming from his care for Aemond and the show.

Near the end of the interview, he is asked about the remaining normalcy of his life. Surely it has all changed ever since he landed the show?

"Well, I try to go back to my hometown as much as possible. Just, you know, spending time where I grew up really helps maintain a sense of normal, for me," he responds. "It keeps my feet planted on the ground, that is, when I'm not on dragonback flying high up in the clouds."

The interviewer promptly laughs at his last remark, then asks, "What's next for you? Your fans are just eagerly awaiting your next project. Maybe a film like your new costar? Everyone is excited for her film with Jacob Elordi."

Ewan can't hide the way he perks up at the mention of you, never mind how Jacob is included too. "Ah, yes, well there are some things down the line for me. More than anything, I want to choose a project that I am passionate about, with a story and a character that is rich and complex. Whichever that is, I guess you'll find out soon!"

"Yes, yes, we will!"

"And about her project, I mean, I'm just so proud of her. We've become really close and I think she's a fantastic actress and person. She's going to smash it in this film, that's for sure."

The interviewer nods enthusiastically, smirking as he adds, "Apparently a bit of romance on the cards for her as well!"

"You mean in the movie?" Ewan replies, half-smiling in confusion. But he spies his publicist gesturing to the interviewer from behind the camera, a signal that private affairs are off-limits.

After a final question, the interview wraps up.

His publicist grumbles to him afterward, as they prepare to leave the room. "It was clear that no private questions are allowed. Sorry about that, Ewan."

"It's alright, that was... well, what was he on about? Did he mean romance between the two of us?"

"I believe he's talking about Jacob and her. They were spotted out in LA today. The interviewer probably just wanted you to spill some dirt on your costar."

Ewan frowns, "What do mean they were spotted?"

His publicist appears surprised at his question, and his obvious interest. "They've been papped walking arm in arm in LA. Seemed pretty close, not that it's any of that interviewer's business."

As they walk out of the hotel, Ewan can't help but do an immediate Google search of your name, and sure enough, the headlines about your walk with Jacob are abound.

He can't pinpoint how he feels as he sees the photos, the statuesque Jacob with his arm around you as you beam up at him. He notices that his grip on his phone has tightened, so he turns it off quickly and shoves it in his pocket.

Whatever this is, and how it makes him feel, he doesn't like it. He doesn't like it one bit.

His phone vibrates from his pocket, but he ignores it.

So he doesn't yet see your reply.

I miss you too.

💌 next chapter

Ewaaaan! Make a move, my guy!

As much as we'd like to see them make declarations of love or get into the passion quick, I wanted to make it as realistic as possible. How would two young actors begin dating? Reader, kudos to you for keeping it cool as a cucumber thus far - it's up to Ewan to make the big move.

Part three may be the last. What'll they be? Just friends? PR relationship? Notorious fling? Or new celebrity power couple?

MASSIVE thanks for all the lovely feedback for part one! 💙

Update: if you wish to be tagged in part three, let me know in the comments 💌

[spdrvyn]

TSUNDERE MIGUEL O'HARA THAT IS DENYING HIS FEELINGS FOR READER WHILE HE ACTIVELY THINKS ABOUT THEM 24/7 AND KNOWS ALL THEIR CUTE LITTLE QUIRKS (READER CAN BE SPIDERMAN OR NORMAL PERSON YOUR CHOICE) PLEASE I NEED TRUNDERE MIGUEL SO MUCH IM DYING IM STARVING *sob sob cry sob*

love, your best friend Dre <3

i won't say i'm in love — MIGUEL O'HARA

(( uhhh .... i have no clue who this motherfucker is! jk lol hi tommy [ you slut ] here is your severely in denial miguel fic, spoiler free. ))

"Lyla, arrange this mess."

Miguel waved his hand at the AI, eyes focused on the glowing screen in front of him. He always had the habit of keeping a messy desktop, though it wasn't a big problem for him considering his trusty artificial intelligence assistant.

To which the trusty artificial intelligence would poke and tease Miguel in response. At times, he really wondered if Lyla was secretly being controlled by a human. A pesky, occasionally annoying, childish human that constantly pushed his buttons.

"What's the magic word, Miguel?"

He groaned bringing his index finger and thumb to the bridge of his nose, massaging the stress lines that have formed from constantly being teased and played with.

"...Please."

Lyla lets out an electric hum, her avatar glitching into a thinking pose. She stares at Miguel with a confused look through her heart-shaped sunglasses. "Sorry. The signal in here is so bad. What was that?"

"I said, please, Lyla. Get to work."

"Oh, don't worry. I heard you the first time."

The man lets out a defeated sigh, he's given up on trying to defend himself against Lyla. Even when he's old and withered, this charade will continue like a never-ending circus show.

Multiple screens pop up in front of the AI, to which Miguel bashfully averts his gaze. He's normally organized enough, in the workplace but he's also very busy. Little things like putting files in the folders they belong simply evades his mind sometimes.

However, one file in particular stood out in front of him from the corner of his eye. It was a drive, among all the others that are colored in the regular shade of blue and labeled accordingly, this one was highlighted in pink with a little heart symbol at the end.

"Lyla, what's that?"

Her avatar glitches again into her in a sitting position, a little teacup in her hands as she takes a fake sip. "Hmm? I don't know, I don't see anything. Which one are you talking about?"

"Ay dios mío... The one in pink, Lyla. What is it?"

"Ohhh..." An obviously fake display of surprise makes itself present on Lyla's face, she opens the file. "This is a drive of all of the times you talked about that recruit. Lovingly, might I add."

Miguel's eyes darted around the screen, folding his arms over his chest. There were many, many videos of him. The scroll bar just kept going like there was no end.

Hesitantly, he pointed to one among the sea of videos and Lyla opened it. The playback goes as follows, the 'recording' is from her perspective, it seems.

Miguel is hunched over his desk, mumbling nonsense to himself until it becomes more coherent as Lyla approaches him.

"Whatcha' got there?"

The camera shifts and zooms over to Miguel's hand, to where he's holding a small tupperware. Filled to the brim with baked goodies, a small sticky note is pasted to the top of it however the writing is too tiny to make anything of it.

'They got me a gift.'

'That's the third one this week.'

His chest heaves as he lets out a deep sigh.

'...I know.'

A small moment of silence before Miguel continues speaking.

'Esto es tan tonto. I don't why they keep bringing me these... these things! I don't know why they keep smiling brighter than sun when they give them to me!'

Miguel frustratingly opens the tupperware, brings one of the pastries close to his mouth and takes a big bite. A small groan escapes his throat.

'I don't know what they're putting in these things to make them so delicious! Giving them to me, of all people. Stupid, stupid, stupid. So smart they are. Agile, strong, and capable and— and kind...'

Another bite.

'You know that you've gotten them gifts before, right?'

'But they all look idiotic next to this. Made with their precious time and care. Putting in the effort to make sure that they actually taste good and they do,'

Miguel closes the tupperware with a loud snap.

'¿A quién estoy engañando? They're amazing.'

"Miguel?"

That wasn't part of the recording. Miguel swipes at the screen and it fades out of existence, little pixels hovering in his sight before it completely disintegrates. Lyla disappears too as you swing onto the platform of his office.

He tenses up once he sees you, leaning a hand against his desk. God, he definitely did not want to look at you after what he just watched. He especially did not want to look at you because of the blush that stained his cheeks. Thankfully, mostly hidden by the darkness of his chambers.

Of course, you greeted him with the same warm smile.

"Haven't seen you all day today. Are you doing alright?"

"Fine. Doing fine. Just cleaning, why are you here?" Says Miguel, he despised how his heart pounded in his chest so loudly right now. Whenever he was around you.

Being so composed was what he was known for, what he was respected for. Yet, everytime you even look in the same direction as him, his exterior just melts.

"I just wanted to check in on you, was all. I noticed you haven't come out in a while, I brought you an empanada from the cafeteria just in case you were hungry."

You toss the small container to him and he catches it in one hand, he could hardly comprehend what was going on right now. Staring mindlessly at the box. "Thank you."

"Of course. Take care of yourself for me, I'll... head out now."

He watches over the edge as you fall off the platform, landing onto ledge that separates his desk from the rest of the room.

"Can you start ranting now? I want to get this drive up to 600 videos."

Miguel grumbles, opening the box and biting into the delectable snack before going back to organizing his desktop.

[aphrogeneias]

Congratulations, bby! 🥰 I’d love to participate but I am so lousy at prompts 😓

I’d love like an interview moment? All the press for Day One has got me thinking about Eddie doing like marathon interviews and him being like…distracted by his assistant the whole time?

If it doesn’t spark anything feel free to toss ❤️

warnings: smut (+18), biting, oral (f receiving). sex flashbacks in the middle of the day are one's biggest enemy.

Somewhere between the third and fourth questions, Eddie zoned out.

The band was lined up at the press conference table, and as he sat at the far left of his bandmates, his mind started wandering. He didn't know if it was the flash of the cameras going off, or the repetitive questions being made by the journalists sitting on the chairs reserved for the press in front, but he couldn't keep his attention fixed.

“What can we expect from this second U.S. tour now that…”, and “Can you guys tell us your plan for…”, and “What do you think about the comparisons made between you and…”. The last question, made by a man directly in front of him, almost made him roll his eyes. Eddie looked away, barely concealing a sigh, and let Jeff handle that question more gracefully than he ever could.

He chose the circus life, he enjoyed the circus life, but when it was moments like this where he discovered he didn't have much patience for it.

Wandering, like his mind, his eyes found you standing at the side, between Rick and their manager, Jim. With your trusty notebook in hand, listening to Rick whispering something as you scribbled something quickly. Eddie wanted to smile at your concentrated face, and the way your nose scrunched as you struggled with the ballpoint pen in your hand.

He couldn't, though, but that didn't stop him from looking.

As you strained your neck further to listen more closely to what Rick was telling you, the collar of your sweater moved just enough for him to see a peek of a reddened — quickly turning purple — bruise close to your collarbone.

The memory hit him, then, all at once.

You spread before him in bed like a feast, looking good enough to eat. Running his nose through your naked chest, nuzzling his cheek on your soft skin to feel you close, holding you down with his hands on your waist. Your giggles and your hands on his hair, keeping it from falling on his face.

Marking you with his lips and teeth, tongue and spit, lavishing you with it. Teeth on your neck, suckling on your sensitive skin, relishing on the sweet noises you made, on the feeling of your hands as they squeezed his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh.

You marked him as he marked you, and if he moved shoulders the right way, he could still feel them running down his back.

Eddie sat, bored, his legs spread wide, thinking about you. About sucking bruises over your chest, leaving delicate bites on your nipples, the bite mark he left on your lower stomach, knowing he would find it there later, if he lifted your pretty sweater up. Another journalist raises their hand, another question is made.

Another memory of his mouth on you, kissing your thighs, biting on the meat of them. Your taste on his tongue, like honey on his lips. The view of your back arching as he raised his eyes to see you fall apart on his mouth and fingers, hands squeezing your tits just as he'd asked.

He shifted uncomfortably on his seat, wishing he'd kept his sunglasses on. His already tight jeans feel tighter, and if he closed his eyes, he could still feel you on him, skin on skin, thighs squeezing his waist, the bed moving and hitting the wall behind you, the shadows undulating on the wall.

If this was a spell you'd gotten him under, he didn't wish to be broken free.

“My question is for Munson,” he heard, then, coming from a journalist at the far back. A woman, with a microphone labeled with a magazine he'd heard of before, but only in passing, “do you…”

He had to ask her to repeat her question, amping up his charm, making the crowd of press-people laugh. You didn't know what you'd done, but he'd get you for it later.

[thedemises]

. . . SAVE A HORSE, GO ON A RIDE WITH THE COWBOY! featuring boothill!

notes! . . . y'know the phrase, “save a horse, ride the cowboy”? well, I decided to-do something about it with boothill... except it's sfw and more like “save a horse, ride with the cowboy” cuz i dont do nsfw here >:/. god give me acceptance for how boothill is so ooc here- 😭😭 idnk how to write his character properly, and does he even have a horse?? I don't remember seeing a horse when his character and banner got leaked, so let's just pretend he does have one for the sake of K'hailreigh for this plot. 💀

imagine returning the horse boothill had been searching for all day after it got the chance to escape through the tall fences the moment they were opened, his eyes widen at the sight of his companion with you guiding alongside it. normally, his horse wouldn't follow after someone else's orders other than him... and it behaves pretty feisty and rough with people who isn't him.

boothill is relieved to see that his trusty horse hadn't been injured, briefly thanking you as he goes over to fuss over his stallion. you can't help your gaze wandering and examining his figure, in awe of the metallic and cyborg parts of the cowboy in front of you. sure you might've seen people having artificial and metal parts attached to them, but this man right here just plainly looks like a robot if it weren't for his humanly head.

boothill notices you eyeing every inch of him, glancing from the lasso that hangs at his hips to the pistols to his arms and to his legs. he glares a wolfishly smile at you, baring the shark-like teeth that you gaze in short surprise at, and asks in a teasingly tone, “like what you see, darlin'?”, observing how you blink owlishly at him. but then, he's becomes sort of surprised when you nod your head and confirm that—yes, you like his appearance and how the color scheme matches altogether, while indirectly  commenting how he's a good-looking cowboy.

boothill, after his turn of blinking at you, grins and narrows his eyes with an intrigued look in them; amused by you and how you don't seem in the slightest.. nervous or terrified in his presence. you perked the cyborg's interest.

finishing the small talk with the man, you mention that you'll be needing to go somewhere for an errand and boothill takes the opportunity to offer a ride there on his horse—as a thanks for retrieving his horse, taking in your surprised expression with a grin as he ends the sentence with a “darlin'”. he insists, even if you refuse, so you decide that it'll be quicker to go in a horse ride with the cowboy than rather walking by foot as you were given no other choice.

with boothill's assistance, you were boosted onto the horse and instructed by him to hold on as he looks back at you, flashing a toothy grin and a finger tilting his hat just slightly for a short moment before you and him rode off towards where you were needed to be at with his horse. startled by the increasing speed his horse was going, you instinctively grasp onto the cyborg cowboy's built body in order to not fall off during the ride accidentally—boothill grins at your expression, his laughter going with the wind, “better hol' on tight for now, sweetheart. this'll be a rough ride! i'll get ya to where yer headin' in no time!”

© thedemises 2024. all rights reserved. please do not repost, copy, or claim as your own. ━━  word count: 508.

[seaslugfanclub]

What are the reader’s interactions with Scar like? (The holo-villains are reallly cool!)

Scar and (Y/N)’s Interactions

—————————————

In the beginning, (Y/N) had mixed feelings about Scar

On one hand, he’s a wild animal. A flamboyant wild animal who’s 430 pounds and one of natures perfectly designed predators.

On the other hand…:

(Y/N) knows that Scar enjoys his privacy, like most cats do. So if he doesn’t need any assistance, they’ll happily leave him alone

But they subtly do little things for the big cat

For the love of god keep him away from the “It’s a Small World” ride

Maybe a creating a giant scratching post out of old Mufasa merchandise

Or slipping him a little catnip when he gets too grouchy

Scar can deny being entertained by such frivolous things all he wants… but at the end of the day, he’s still a cat

Scar: How dare you mock my intelligence, comparing me to the common house ca-

(Y/N): *Clicks on laser pointer*

Scar: =O^O=

If the park is getting any new ride equipment, (Y/N) will take the large box’s for Scar to play in

One of (Y/N)’s responsibilities as being the villains “caretaker” is helping Scar with deshedding

One of the only times Scar will allow himself to relax is when (Y/N) combing through his fur. He hasn’t had much TLC in his life, especially in his exile, so it’s a secretly welcomed change.

His mane is SO SOFT, (Y/N) will gladly spend three hours detangling knots in Scars fur if it means being able to feel his mane

One moments Scar will want attention from (Y/N), but after two pets he’ll change his mind and snarl at them.

If Scars temper begins to rise, (Y/N)’s trusty spray bottle will stop any maulings

Hiding under the sofa when (Y/N) is vacuuming

*(Y/N), gently touching Scar with the side of their foot*: Scar, move out of the way please so people don’t trip on you

*Scar, his eyes enormous*: You KICK Scar? You kick his body like the football? Oh! Oh! Jail for (Y/N)! Jail for (Y/N) for one thousand years!!!

[nintendo-b1tch]

Part 2 to this!

Hope this is good! Enjoy!

Criticism is always welcomed!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

With a light, melodic laugh escaping your lips, you found yourself immersed in the joyous atmosphere as you gracefully unloaded the much-needed supplies from your trusty steed, Epona. The day had taken its toll on all of you - the brave heroes who had decided to embark on this journey alongside you. Yet despite the weariness that permeated the air, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment as you showered Epona with affectionate strokes, expressing your gratitude for her unwavering assistance.

As the equine steed nuzzled her snout against your cheek in response to your praises, a ripple of amusement coursed through your being. It wasn't lost on you that your fellow companions' curious gazes lingered on your figure, causing an enigmatic smile to grace your lips. With a graceful turn, you faced them head-on, causing their eyes to dart away in a hurried motion. Another lighthearted chuckle escaped your throat, like a herbaceous fragrance permeating the crisp forest air.

It was evident, almost palpable, that they were bewildered by your sudden change in attire. Gone was the elegant dress that once adorned your form, replaced by a humble, handcrafted tunic woven by the skilled hands of warriors. Its simplicity was complemented by the presence of sturdy trousers, concealing the chain mail that offered a protective layer beneath your cloth armor. Leather gloves adorned your hands, accompanied by wristbands that spoke of your prowess and dedication. Despite the transformation, you retained the familiar hairpin, a comforting reminder of your identity.

Finding yourself adjusting to the unfamiliar garments, you couldn't help but reflect on the myriad of emotions intertwining within you. Change can be disorienting, and while you embraced this new attire as a symbol of your evolving role, there was a lingering sense of unease. However, in the grand scheme of things, your sartorial shift seemed trivial compared to the magnitude of the task ahead.

With steadfast determination, you resolved to focus on aiding your companions in setting up the camp for the night. As you moved with purpose, your gracefulness in each step serving as a testament to your unyielding spirit, you couldn't help but appreciate the camaraderie that had formed among this group of heroes.

Time was the first to approach you, he smiled at you as he spoke softly. You could see he wasn't one to be very expressive yet when he was with you, he was the most expressive person you ever met.

" Could you help collect firewood? "

" Of course! "

As Time observed you collecting firewood, a warm smile spread across his face, indicating his approval and appreciation for your efforts. Though normally not an expressive individual, Time seemed to open up and reveal his emotions whenever he was in your presence. It was as if you had a special connection that made him feel comfortable showing his true self.

Intrigued by the soft melody resonating in the air, Time couldn't help but become curious about the song that had captured your subconscious mind. The tune, a beautiful melody you had dreamt of the previous night, wafted through your thoughts, filling your mind with harmonious notes. You absentmindedly began to hum the enchanting melody while your hands deftly gathered as much firewood as they could bear.

Unbeknownst to you, the humming gradually transformed into whispered lyrics as the song unfolded within your thoughts. It was as if the music had taken on a life of its own, flowing effortlessly from the depths of your soul. Time, entranced by the combination of your actions and the ethereal sounds emanating from your lips, found himself captivated by this unexpected performance.

As the instrumental melody within your mind continued to evolve, a surge of emotions coursed through your veins. The soundtrack of your dreams now filled the air, carrying with it a crescendo of emotions that compelled your voice to increase in volume. The once delicate and hushed humming evolved into a resounding voice, harmonizing with the imaginary accompaniment.

Caught off guard by the sudden amplification, you finally noticed Time's inquisitive gaze fixed upon you. His eyes sparkled with curiosity, his smile widening as he soaked up the musical display unfolding before him. It was as if your uncensored expression of the song had transported both of you to a realm where time stood still, and nothing else mattered except the harmony that enveloped you.

" Day to night, dark to light,

Fall the sands of time...

Let the years, like the gears

Of a clock, unwind... "

The older man froze in his tracks when he heard the piercing sound of your whispered lyrics floating through the air. It was as if he had turned into a statue, with his muscles tightening intensely. His grip on the wooden object loosened, causing it to clatter and echo in the silence of the grassy surroundings.

" In your mind walk through time

Back to better days...

Memories, like a dream,

Wash tears away... "

As his hands clenched into tight fists, his mind began to race, summoning forth a torrent of painful memories locked deep within the recesses of his consciousness. How could you possibly know about that? His past adventures resurfaced, each scar and wound resuming their places at the forefront of his thoughts.

" Like a star in the sky,

Darkness can't reach you...

Light the night, joy is light,

Till the new dawn... "

His cheeks were wet with tears. In that fleeting moment, you finally realized that he was not by your side, prompting your gaze to shift towards the older man in question. The atmosphere between you both suddenly became heavy, filled with unspoken emotions and unexplained sorrows.

" Time? Are you okay? " you inquired, concern lacing your voice as you tried to understand what was going on. It was not uncommon for him to be quiet, but this silence felt starkly different. It was not the tranquil silence he often embraced, but rather a silence that held the weight of unexpressed feelings. His usual composed demeanor seemed shattered, and the stillness that enveloped him caused your own steps to falter.

A mix of confusion and worry welled up within you, making it difficult to comprehend the sudden shift in his demeanor. You racked your mind for any clues, searching your memories for any hint of what might have caused this unusual display of vulnerability. A sinking feeling settled in your chest as the uncertainty grew, gradually intertwining with your genuine concern for his well-being.

" Tha-that song.... " he mumbled in a barely audible tone, his comment causing a sudden wave of tension to flood the air. Your heart skipped a beat as you quickly gathered your thoughts, desperate to clear any misunderstandings.

" Huh? Oh, I had the most vivid dream last night, " you began with a touch of excitement, your voice laced with wonder. " In this dream, there was a legendary hero, burdened to relive the same three days over and over again. It was both thrilling and heartbreaking to witness his struggle. But you know what made it truly remarkable? A mischievous spirit, unlike any other, forged an unexpected friendship with the hero. They both possessed these incredibly powerful items, each with its own unique aura. "

Pausing for a moment, the realization struck you like a bolt of lightning.

" Wait a minute, your face tattoos... they reminded me of one of those enigmatic items! I can't help but draw parallels between the hero's journey and your own enigmatic presence. I apologize if I'm going off on a tangent here; I tend to get carried away when something captivates my imagination! "

Caught off guard by your passionate rambling, he shook his head, his voice now filled with a mix of resignation and a hint of longing.

" I... nevermind, let's just focus on getting back to camp. " His hands instinctively began gathering fallen wood, the roughness adding another layer of reality to the deeply emotional atmosphere. Tears silently streamed down his face, yet he persisted, determined not to succumb to his raw vulnerability. As he wiped away the evidence of his pain, a small token of solace appeared—a delicate silent princess finding refuge behind his ear, its presence soothing his wounded spirit.

And then, it happened. His gaze met yours, and in that single moment, those shimmering orbs of yours radiated warmth. Your beautiful smile, so genuine and full of understanding, seemed almost otherworldly in its ability to reach deep into his soul. Unprepared for such a connection, his cheeks flushed a soft rose hue, a mix of bashfulness and delight intertwining in his heart.

In that moment, as you both crouched down to collect the scattered firewood, an unexpected connection sparked between you. The warmth of your touch sent a tingling sensation across your skin, and an enchanting blush spread across your cheeks like a delicate sun-kissed hue. It was a small and innocent gesture, seemingly insignificant, but to him, it held immense significance.

The way you bashfully reacted to the accidental touch only endeared you further to him. It was as if you were a delicate flower, gently swaying in the breeze, and he couldn't help but be drawn to your captivating vulnerability. In that instant, he realized just how much he longed to see you in such a state of innocence and openness, even if it meant being vulnerable himself.

However, as soon as his mind dared to wander into the realm of fantasies, he mentally reprimanded himself. How could he even think of such intimate desires? He chastised himself, almost metaphorically slapping his own thoughts away. It was unthinkable to allow his mind to wander down that path when his feelings for you were still transitioning and evolving.

But despite his best efforts, his heart refused to obey reason. It continued to beat wildly against the barriers of his chest, reminding him that he couldn't deny the depth of his growing emotions. He found himself falling, captivated by your mesmerizing presence, just as someone would fall for your beauty and allure unmatched.

The realization struck him like a lightning bolt, illuminating the depths of his infatuation. The more he got to know you, the more he couldn't resist the gravitational pull of affection that was drawing him closer and closer. Your beautiful self had cast a spell upon his heart, captivating him completely.

Although his mind knew it was unwise to allow his thoughts to wander down such intense and passionate paths, his heart had already made its choice. There was no denying it anymore; he was undeniably falling for you. And just like Legend, his fall was swift and all-encompassing, leaving him yearning for a future where he could cherish you, hold you close, and revel in the beauty of your connection.

So, as he gathered the scattered firewood with you, he knew deep within himself that his path had diverged. No longer could he pretend to be untouched by the whirlwind of emotions that swirled within his being. He had fallen, and now it was up to fate to decide if his feelings would be reciprocated.

You were not just an ordinary person but an extraordinary individual with an unwavering determination and a compassionate heart that was always ready to lend a helping hand to others. Your compelling strength of character was simply irresistible, making it hard for anyone, including him, to not be captivated by your charm. The value that your vibrant energy held was truly remarkable, even though you had only been a part of the chain for a relatively short period of time.

To everyone's astonishment, you decided to undergo rigorous training in sword combat under the guidance of Time and Warriors. And when the moment of truth arrived, both of them were taken aback by your extraordinary talent and skill in wielding a sword. Your proficiency in combat was beyond impressive, leaving a lasting impression on the two heroes who had seen their fair share of formidable warriors.

As he walked alongside you, he found himself lost in a sea of contemplation, completely submerged in his own thoughts. The sight of you, with your radiant smile and a gentle tap on his shoulder, brought him back to the present moment. And in that very moment, you placed the firewood against the ground and began speaking again. The angelic quality of your voice resonated deeply within him, leaving him bewildered as to why he was falling deeper in love with you. It was not just your enchanting voice, but also the little habits that you possessed, the habits that you were unaware of, which he found endearing and utterly lovable. All these intricacies and qualities that made you who you were had a profound effect on him, solidifying his adoration for you.

Yet, no matter how much he tried, he found himself unable to fully embrace his feelings for you. His heart remained locked, trapped in the memories of his previous love, Malon. The weight of her untimely death had left an indelible mark on his soul, making it nearly impossible for him to open himself up to another person.

The grief that consumed him after losing Malon had been overwhelming. It consumed his every thought, preventing him from moving on and finding happiness with someone new. The love he had once felt for her was unmatched, a love so profound that it felt as though it could never be replicated or replaced.

In his mind's eye, he could envision Malon's disapproving gaze upon him. She was always a strong-willed woman, never afraid to challenge his stubbornness, especially when it came to matters of the heart. Her scoldings echoed in his mind, reminding him of the lengths he would go to protect himself from the pain of loss.

However, amidst his internal struggle, you remained patient and understanding. " Time!! " Your voice broke through his reverie, bringing him back to reality. It was then he noticed the tears that had silently trickled down his face, only to be wiped away by your gentle touch. Concern etched upon your face, your genuine worry for him was evident.

Surprised by your perceptiveness, he realized that you saw through the facade he had so carefully constructed. He had always been adept at hiding his problems, shielding himself from others, but somehow, you had managed to see through his walls. It was a humbling experience, knowing that no matter how hard he tried to keep his struggles hidden, you saw him for who he truly was.

Your question hung in the air, poised delicately between the two of you.

" What's wrong? I know you're hiding something, " you gently prodded further, your concern coupled with a hint of amusement. It was as if you understood the depth of his pain and yet refused to let it define him.

From the moment you entered his life, everything changed. The formidable walls he had meticulously constructed, in a desperate attempt to shield himself from the pain of losing Malon, could no longer withstand your presence. You effortlessly shattered those barriers that surrounded his delicate heart.

" It's nothing...it's just bad memories... " As he whispered those words to you, admitting that these were nothing but painful memories, he couldn't help but lean in and tenderly press his lips against your forehead. It was a moment filled with an unexpected display of affection that caused your face to flush, a deep red hue covering your cheeks.

Deep down, he knew that he couldn't reveal the truth to you. You were too pure, too innocent for him to expose the darkness that haunted his past adventure. He was the boy you dreamt of, the one who had traversed through treacherous paths and faced unimaginable perils. Yet, even amidst his own internal battle, he couldn't bear to burden you with his haunting memories.

Later that night, as the darkness enveloped the world, he found himself unable to sleep. Restlessly, he shifted in bed, his eyes fixated on the expanse of the night sky. The starry canvas above seemed to hold some sort of mysterious allure, captivating his attention to no end. Little did he know, his solitude was about to be disrupted by an unexpected intrusion.

Startled, he suddenly jolted as a voice pierced through the silence, shattering the tranquility of the night. Never had he anticipated encountering another person awake at such a late hour. It was as if this voice came from an invisible companion, a presence that he had not accounted for. The shock on his face was evident, and he struggled to comprehend the situation at hand.

" It happened to you too, huh? " The voice belonged to none other than Legend, who had silently taken a seat nearby, hugging his knees tightly against his chest. His gaze remained fixated on your slumbering figure, leaving an air of intrigue hanging in the air.

Confusion danced across Time's face as he responded, " How did you...? "

A mischievous smile crept onto Legend's lips, his bluntness revealing more than the words he uttered.

" Oh, I can see it written all over your face, Old Man, " he quipped, clearly relishing the element of surprise he had just bestowed upon his companion. The unspoken bond between them transcended mere verbal explanation.

Curiosity piqued, the protagonist couldn't help but wonder why tears had welled up in Legend's eyes during their first encounter with you. It was a question that had lingered in the back of his mind, but had never been addressed before.

Breaking the silence, Legend finally found the courage to open up, albeit momentarily diverting his gaze.

" The song they sang when we first heard them... It reminded me of the darkest time in my adventure, " he revealed, his words laced with a tinge of vulnerability. Evidently, there was a tale of anguish and adversity that lay hidden beneath the surface, a story that he was not yet ready to unravel.

Moved by his companion's admission, Time sat up and reached out, placing a comforting hand on Legend's shoulder. It was a gesture of solidarity, an unspoken understanding between fellow adventurers who had braved the trials and tribulations of their respective journeys.

" Same here, I can only hope this is a two time occurrence "

[adorkablecringeworks]

That Color Looks Good on You

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Pairing: rottmnt x gn!reader

Warnings: Mild swearing

Summery: Up next Mikey! 83

Author’s Note:

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::: : ::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Part 2: Magic Mike

The lair is calm. Everyone is in their respective places, doing their own thing. All around peaceful and relaxed…

Ooooh boy is that about to change.

Chaos has arrived! Putting the menthos in the cola, NO ONE is safe today.

First up on the list, the youngest, the baby (don’t let him hear that he’ll totally throttle you), Mikey. The clanging of pots and pans echoing through the abandoned train station the Hamato’s call home made it easy in finding him. Currently located over in his domain, the kitchen. It looks like he’s getting an early start in prepping dinner.

You and Mikey cook together regularly, with you assist him or he assisting you. It’s always fun bouncing ideas of each other as well as teaching each other about different foods and new cooking techniques. Leo would join sometimes, but it usually ends up getting too crowded with everyone stumbling over each other. So he often sits to the side. Either joining the conversation or simply reading his comics, just sharing the same space and enjoying the company.

For today, Mikey’s on his own, razzmatazzing in his own element. You would normally join him when you're over, but not this time. You have a mission to accomplish with Leo.

You and your co-conspirator approach with caution, quietly peering through the doorway. There he is, singing along to his music playing from his good ol’ trusty boombox. Throwing little dance moves here and there. All in all, It’s quite adorable…

He has no clue to what’s coming.

Unfortunately, you can’t help but bop your head along to his tunes. Leo elbows in your arm to get you back into focus. You grumble back under your breath as you rub your arm. Damn those boybands and their infectiously catchy music.

Time to get to work.

=======================================================

Look at this!

A wild Michelangelo! A true rarity!

Michelangelo’s are traditionally called Mikey but are also know as; Michael, Mike, Miguel, Angelo, Angie or simply as Orange.

Agile as they are adorable, Mikey’s are far stronger than they appear.

They are known for their friendly, sweet dispositions and are quite affectionate. They are highly social creatures, having strong familial bonds and usually are found in family groups of 4. Although Mikey’s have been reported being seen in bales of up to 7 individuals.

Do not let their adorable and friendly nature fool you. Mikey’s are fast, powerful and destructive. They have the ability to lift bajillion times their own weight.

Though not easily provoked, Mikey’s do have a limit to their patience and is a force to be reckoned with when pushed too far.

=======================================================

You do your best (frankly, that’s not saying much. It’s just terrible) Down Unda accent for your nature documentary as your slider records you. Conjointly, with overly dramatic hand gestures along your narration. Leo can’t help his snickering once you’ve finished.

“Shshshshshs ssshush shshusssh shhsh”

You adjust yourself to get back into your role

“Ahahem”

=======================================================

As I mentioned before, Mikey’s are friendly and affectionate so approaching is relatively easy. Mirroring this temperament, he’ll be none the wiser on what’s to come.

=======================================================

With that, you stand up and enter the kitchen.

“Hey big man!” You casually approach him from behind, wrapping your arms around his neck and give him a soft squeeze for a hug. Causing him too squeak softly.

“Getting an early start on Dindin?”

(Dindin… Really? You’re a nerd)

“Hey yourself!” His smile never faltering, Mikey returns the hug by leaning back into you. He flashes his signature blinding smile your way (why do you always forget your damn sunglasses when you’re around him? Even from this angle!).

“I didn’t know you were coming over! Will you be staying for dinner?”

“That depends on what’s on the menu for tonight?”

You peer down over his shoulder to see what he has lined up. Surrounding him are different spices and seasonings along with some garlic and olive oil (it all smells so good). In front is a cutting board, his chef knife, and a bowl of-

“Brussels sprouts again!?” You grimace at the offending vegetable. There it sits, a vibrant, healthy green, mocking. Throughly washed and ready to be prepped.

“Why Mikey? Why must you do this to us?” You whine, bouncing up and down on your toes. “You’re not gonna do that soup again are ya?”

The box turtle chuckles at the pout he can hear in your voice

“Come on it wasn’t that bad.”

“Dude… it had paprika and trout…”

“Paprika and TROUT!” Leo echos in disbelief, making his appearance known.

“Hi Leo. I should of known.” Mikey rolls his eyes and let’s out a sigh. “Where there is one, the other isn’t that far behind.” Despite the sass, his smile never wavers.

His response makes you and Leo chuckle. It seems that the youngest has yet to notice Leo filming with his phone.

Mikey picks up his knife to begin stemming and peeling the bustle with you comfortably still attached to his back. Apparently very much relaxed and content in your arms. All the while Leo continues his rant.

“Not even Raph could stomach it little brother.” He shakes his head. “And he ate that origami salami that had been manhandled by two foot clan’s hands, that have touch pizza supreme knows what, from off that old ship’s floor for Zza sake!”

“Yeah I’m all up for trying new stuff but that…. That certainly did not ‘Unleash The Flavor’.” Leo and you shudder simultaneously.

Mikey pauses in his work to deadpan at the both of you, then continues with his task at hand.

Leo saunters over to his usual spot over at the kitchen island takes a seat on his claimed stool. He keeps his phone steady, resting his elbows on the counter as he continues to film. This angle is perfect to capture everything. Mikey finally picks up on his older brother holding his phone out but pays it no mind. Figuring that he’s just watching some video on the internet. Yet, he somehow completely misses that Leo’s face is marked up.

“And let’s not forget the time you put it on pizza. For all things sacred you don’t put brussels spouts on pizza Miguel!”

Mikey snubs his sibling with a ‘humph’. “Raph ate that just fine.”

You chuckle at the the two of them.

“Well, for ‘all things sacred’,” You make air quotes with your hands over Mikey’s shoulder, “You don’t put pineapple on pizza either lEOnArDo.” Then wrapping them around Mikey again.

Leo scowls at your teasing, sticking his tongue out at you in an pouty blep (adorable). Both you and Mikey snicker.

“Aaannyways that’s not saying much Michael since it’s a known fact he eats moldy bread.”

“Ok ok your right, I agree.” The turtle in orange deflates, “The soup was not my finest moment and the pizza wasn’t that great either. But this is time it’s different!” He perks back up and peeks over his shoulder at you. “They be roasted with garlic, rosemary, olive oil with a dash of wasabi.”

He finishes his presentation with the bounce of his brows.

“Ok now THAT sounds yummy.” You glance over to your companion who nods in approval.

“Ok then yes I’m staying if there is enough.”

“Duh! There’s always enough for you.” He beams at you once more.

There! You catch your opening.

“Thank you Mikey” You nuzzle your cheek against his. “You’re the best!”

As someone who’s known for his physical affection, he readily nuzzles back, giggling, unknowing in what’s about to befall on him.

Seeing the affectionate display of you and his baby brother spreads a warmth through in the leader’s chest and a gentle smile on his face. Thankful for how the important people on his life getting along so well, bonding so easily. However, the feeling is short live, his gentle smile morphs back to his signature smirk for he knows what’s next.

The poor lovable, ignorant fool.

With Mikey momentarily distracted from his form his task at hand, he lets you turn him around and cup his face with in your hands. He in turns, grasp your wrists gently for support. His face is your favorite. Always so soft and squishy, so you squish, causing his eyes close.

“You are the sweetest ever!”

The bush returns to his cheeks at your praise however, before he can respond, (and once again) you attack.

Your smooches are precise and swift, producing a squeal from the youngest ninja followed by a torrent of incredibly epizootic laughter. It takes all of your willpower to fight his affliction.

On the other hand, Leo has no need to resist and freely cackles along. It makes your task that much harder. A few snorts and giggles manage to escape you in which resulted in small raspberries against Mikey’s face.

That was a mistake.

Leo’s cackles delves into a deep belly laugh. Laughing so hard he drops his head to the counter and bangs his fist against it. Remembering that he’s suppose to be filming, he fights not to fall off his stool as he over corrects himself.

Meanwhile Mikey is laughing so hard that he starts to tremble and completely loses the ability to breathe.

The situation is hilariously getting out of hand and you are finally forced to stop. Finally able to let your giggles free. You check to see if you were able to enough coverage. You’ve succeeded and are loving how your shade of lipstick compliments the soft flush of the turtle’s cheeks. As well as adoring just absolutely how infectious his smile is with his adorable tooth gap on prominent display.

“What was all that for? You’ve stayed for dinner many times already”

“I know. Just wanted you let you know how much I appreciate you. I don’t think I do that enough.”

Mission accomplished. You let go of his face and he, in turn, your wrists.

“Well let you get back to it.” You give the orange ninja one last kiss on the squishiest part of his cheek, making him give one last squeal as you pull away. With lingering chuckles, Leo takes his cue and follows you out of the kitchen. Carefully wiping the tears from his eyes as to not smear the lipstick on his face.

As swiftly as you arrived, you and your cohort depart. Leaving Mikey there beaming and sooo confused.

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[moonbeamwritings]

new year’s kiss

wc: 2.0k

pairing: gojo x gn!reader

warnings: gojo is his own warning, getting tipsy/drunk together

Throughout your years as a jujutsu sorcerer, being away from home is something that you can never quite get used to, especially not during the holidays, and especially not with Satoru Gojo as your traveling companion. Three days earlier, you and Gojo had been tasked with exorcizing curses in Sapporo — a simple, in and out style mission. Gojo deals with the larger, deadlier curse, while you deal with the smaller ones. A one-two punch. Easy.

“I like when you tag along, my trusty assistant,” he’d told you with one of his familiar self-assured smirks.

And you’d wanted to refuse the mission — he’s Satoru Gojo, after all. What could he possibly need you for? But when you went home later that night to get some things together, you wondered if even the strongest men get lonely sometimes, and with the way your heart tugged in your chest at the thought, you knew you couldn’t leave him alone.

So now you’re stuck sitting next to Gojo at the bar in the lobby of your hotel, nursing some sickeningly sweet cocktail as the wind whips just outside the windows, throwing snow through the air like bullets and bringing visibility down to a firm zero. You had a lot of ideas for how your New Year’s Eve would go, and this certainly wasn’t one of them. No good deed goes unpunished, after all.

“And you can’t use your teleportation because?”

You can already feel annoyance itching at your skin before Gojo even slings his arm around the back of your stool, fingertips skimming over the fabric of your sweater as he does. He smirks, peering at you over the dark frames of his sunglasses. Even inside, at night, they’re perched proudly on the bridge of his nose. “Because isn’t this more fun? Stuck in a hotel together, waiting out the storm on New Year’s Eve.” He leans closer as if to prove his point. “It’s like a romance novel. So dramatic!”

“Do you, like, get some sick enjoyment out of making my life miserable?”

Misery comes in all forms — your line of work has shown you as much. Your personal brand of misery takes human form in Satoru Gojo. What with his obnoxious self-confidence and inclination to tease. With the smug way he smiles or the annoyingly perfect way his hair sits across his forehead. He’s terrible, the most annoying man you’ve ever had the displeasure of working with. You want to throttle him or beat his ass, anything to make him zip it for even so much as a second. And a part of you, deep, deep down, also wants to kiss him on the mouth, though you’re not sure you can bring yourself to admit as much — at least not out loud.

The grin Gojo fixes you with is lazy and teasing. “Awww, come on,” he croons, pulling you by the shoulder to tuck you close to his side. “Cut me a little slack, huh? You know I love you.”

You remind yourself you’re supposed to be annoyed with him for leaving you stuck here, not focusing on the distracting way his pretty blue eyes sparkle beneath the lights overhead or the way his long, lithe fingers curl around an expensive glass of gin. Or the perfect way you fit against his side, the comforting smell of his cologne.

But you’re already too far gone, and you know it.

You roll your eyes, pushing at him in a futile attempt to get him to leave you alone. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Now, get off.”

“I like this, though,” he pouts, making a big show of pretending to be hurt by your insistence. “Have you seen the weather outside? It’s freezing. I need your body heat to sustain me!”

“But we’re inside. It’s perfectly warm in here.”

He doesn’t move. “You’re no fun. How about this? We’ll make a deal.” 

“A deal?”

“Mhm.” He seems all too pleased with whatever’s swirling around in that strange noggin of his that you almost don’t want to know what he’s thinking. Almost. “You stay here with me, keep me all nice and toasty,” he goes as far as to hook his foot around the leg of your stool to pull you that much closer. “And drinks will be on me.” With the new proximity, your faces are dangerously close together, leaving your mouth dry and face hot. 

“How does that sound? Fair trade?”

When you don’t answer right away, he pushes his glasses up onto his head. He juts his lip out, making his eyes wide and watery and propping his chin in his hands to really sell the sad, lonely puppy look he’s going for. You sigh when you find that it’s more cute than annoying. He’s such a pain in the ass.

“Fine,” your eyes narrow as you point a stern finger in his direction, “but no funny business.”

He smirks, holding his palm up to you, “Sorcerer's honor.”

The problem with sweet specialty cocktails like the ones on the hotel’s bar menu is that you can’t taste the alcohol. The dangers and bitter taste of hard liquor are always hidden behind fancy glasses and saccharine goodness, masked by fruit juices, syrups, and sodas. They hit you before you even realize it, and suddenly you’re drunk and your tummy feels a little funny.

And as you blearily peer at the clock behind the bar — 11:55PM — you come to that very sobering realization. You’re not drunk, not completely, but your joints feel loose and your brain feels less wrinkled than it was an hour ago. You’re tipsy enough that you drop your head against Gojo’s shoulder without a second thought, and that’s enough to show you you’ve had more than you expected to.

Gojo’s not much better off. He’s got his own little collection of empty glasses on the bar in front of him, cheeks now a flushed, rosy pink. His arm has migrated from the back of your chair to right around your shoulders, his free hand hanging right in your peripheral vision.

You take another sip of your drink and set your sights on his fingers. They look a little lonely, you muse in your alcohol addled mind. What kind of person would you be if you left them like that? And on New Year’s Eve, no less. You’re not a monster.

You bring your hands up to fiddle with his fingers, holding his pinky in one hand and his pointer finger in the other before moving to pinch each digit between your pointer finger and thumb. It’s a mindless activity that distracts you from the alcohol and the almost possessive way Gojo keeps his foot looped around your chair and arm around your shoulders.

“You havin’ fun over there?”

You finally decided to weave your fingers through his and skirt your thumb along the back of his hand. His skin is smooth and soft beneath your fingertips. “Mhm.”

“You want another drink?”

Glancing at the clock again, you watch the numbers swim a bit before you blink. 11:58PM. “No, thanks.”

“M’kay.” He signals for the bartender and closes his tab with one resolute signature, dropping a few extra bills onto the counter as a tip. When he’s done, he pulls your hand up to his mouth and kisses the back of it before turning his attention back to the TV. The simple, almost nonchalant motion stirs butterflies in your stomach.

The alcohol has made you pliant, has dulled the sharp edges of annoyance that had tinged your nerves just an hour ago. You’re practically putty in Gojo’s hands now, so different from before that he can’t hide his dopey grin and warm cheeks. He’s just as bad, Gojo thinks as he nuzzles his cheek against your hair and squeezes your hand in his. Gin has stoked the flames that burn deep in his belly, and Gojo knows that the more he becomes acquainted with your touch, the more his resolve will falter. He’ll never be able to get enough. He won’t be satisfied until he memorizes every inch of your skin and every angle of your soul, and even then he’ll want more. Always more. 

Gojo thinks he deserves it. He deserves to be greedy. He deserves to put his heart on his sleeve and let it be held, let himself be held. You lose so much, give up so much when you’re a man like Satoru Gojo that he feels as if the universe owes him this tiny victory. It’s the least it can do for the hell it’s put him through.

And it’s that same selfish, yearning desire that forces a question from his throat like the snow falling outside. Fast and reckless. “Can I tell you a secret?”

You pull your head from his shoulder to meet his gaze, eager to be in on a smidge of unexpected gossip. “What is it?”

Gojo drinks in your undivided attention like ambrosia. The fire continues to rage, burning him from the inside out. “I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss before.”

The clock behind the bar flickers and turns — 11:59 PM — though neither of you are paying much mind to the time. 

The butterflies in your stomach multiply, fluttering up between your ribs and around your lungs, bringing the dull buzz of excitement with them. “Really?”

“Really.” He leans closer to you, and watches as your lips part, tongue darting out to wet them.

“I’d think a guy like you would have people lining up for a chance.” 

Gojo hangs onto your every word, playing over each syllable as he prays the sweet little cocktails you’ve been sipping on loosen your lips just a little more. “A guy like me?”

You shrug like you can’t find the right words. Hesitant. “You know what I mean.”

“I don’t know if I do, sweetheart,” You catch a hint of gin on his breath as his lips inch towards yours. When he’s close, but not quite there, Gojo’s voice dips into a purr, eyes drooping to fix you with a sultry, half-lidded expression. “Will you explain it to me? What kind of guy am I?”

Gone is the alcohol-fueled confidence that had you cuddled up to his side, taken over by a bashfulness that pulls Gojo’s lips into a smirk. You shift in your seat, but don’t back away. Your hand stays laced with his. You can do this. “You’re handsome and strong. Witty. Kind when you want to be.”

“Yeah?”

You can’t look him in the eye, not anymore, but you nod, fingers nervously fidgeting in his own. “Yeah.”

10...

Gojo’s heart starts to pound as the room breaks out in a chant. He feels pressed for time, frantic. Like if he doesn’t kiss you at midnight he might never get the chance again. He can’t mess this up.”I always thought you found me annoying.”

9...

You giggle, the air tickling Gojo’s lips as you do. “You annoy me when you tease me, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t like it.”

8...

“Sorry.”

7...

“You’re not.”

6...

He grins and the sight of it makes you smile, too. “No, not really.”

5...

4...

The chant of the countdown fills the beat of silence that lingers between you. Risking a glance between his eyes and the pout of his lips, you bring yourself to ask, “Do you think you’ll have any luck this year? With the kiss and all.”

3...

“Mm, I hope so. There’s someone I’ve really got my eye on.”

2...

“Do I know them?”

“I think you might.”

1...

The hotel lobby ceases to exist the moment the clock strikes twelve, and just as it bursts into cheers and Happy New Year’s, Gojo’s lips meet yours. The kiss is a hungry, clumsy mess that tastes like a devilish mix of hard liquor and cranberry juice. You savor every bit of it. Gojo’s hand slips from yours to cradle your cheek in his palm, touch featherlight and overwhelmingly gentle.

When he finally pulls away, Gojo’s face breaks into a grin, his long fingers brushing against the hair at the nape of your neck. “What did I tell you? A romance novel.”

The roll of your eyes is immediate, a knee jerk response. “Just shut up and kiss me.”

“So bossy.”

The next kiss is chaste, sweet. One that has your teeth bumping together as you grin into it. And this time when he pulls away, Gojo only has one thing to say, “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

[jebewonmorelike]

So You Can Do Yours

part two up now: whatever you say, president-nim wc: 2k pronouns: none used; n/a warnings: none? i guess reader is not on good terms with father but to be fair their father is a chairman of a company so he probably is objectively not great; literally fluff and mostly platonic/you're his boss so but suggestion that wookie has a crush on reader at the end... and reader is supposed to be 19; super unrealistic but just a fun little fictional concept lol summary: uselessCEO!reader has fired every new assistant they've had in the past few months, but newassistant!gunwook thinks he might be the right man for the job. ~masterlist~ ♡ ~kofi (no pressure at all)~ this is a cute one :) gunwook is baby. gunwook is son. protect him at all costs. i've been wanting to write more for gunwookie for a while, but i was super hesitant to because i got a really freakish comment about the only small drabble i wrote for him. so five months later i'm ready to try again. please remember this is just a work of fiction and its crazy fluffy. i really hope you like it! also expect more writing from me this month-- i'm taking the rest of summer off from school so. i'll need to stay busy 😤

“President-nim?” A voice calling through the intercom on your desk breaks your concentration. You huff annoyedly as you lean forward and press the microphone button.

“What is it?”

“Your new assistant is here to meet you,” Secretary Lee responds cautiously. You groan; quickly shoving what you had been working on into the hidden compartment of your desk. Not another assistant.

Every Monday for two months now, a new bright-eyed young woman had walked through the doors of your office ready to kick-start her career as a company president's trusty assistant. And sure enough, by that Friday afternoon every single one of them had run out in tears; unable to handle the pressures of the job. Was that pressure almost entirely due to the fact that you had no idea how to do your own job? Unimportant, but--

“Annyeonghaseyo, President-nim!” A male voice shakes you from your internal monologue as you look up to find that a young man in a 90 degree bow has appeared in front of you. He looks up at you, his gaze drifting to your right hand. 

You follow his line of sight to find a watercolor brush still in your hand-- dripping a bit onto your desk. Lifting up your desk compartment slightly, you toss the brush in with the others. You clear your throat a bit awkwardly-- smoothing down the lapels of your suit jacket with your fingers. “Annyeonghaseyo,” you mumble.

“I’m your new assistant, Park Gunwook,” he introduces politely, standing up straight. It’s now that you suddenly realize just how young this man appears to be. His face is round with youth and his lips resemble that of a baby chick. “I hope to serve you well.”

“When? After you get out of school each day?” You joke, brow furrowed in suspicion. “How did you get this job, huh? You look like you’re late for hagwon.”

Gunwook’s brow stays raised for a moment, but a surprisingly cheeky smile eventually creeps onto his face. “Couldn’t I ask you the same, President-nim?”

You exhale an unamused laugh. Guess this one thinks he’s clever. “I graduated two and a half years early.”

“That must look impressive on a resume,” he agrees genuinely with a nod. “Your father being the Chairman of the Board also must look pretty impressive on a resume.”

Stunned by this kid’s audacity, you just stare back at him.

“Nothing to be ashamed of President-nim,” he reassures, clasping his hands together behind his back. “I happen to know someone that works here, too.”

Figures. “And which one of those geriatric, good-for-nothing money bags on the Board is your daddy?”

“None of them,” Gunwook says with a smile. “Secretary Lee is my eomma. Might seem small, but a connection’s a connection.”

Secretary Lee hired her own son? After the way she’d watched all of the sobbing girls run out of the building screaming ‘I’M NEVER WORKING EVER AGAIN’’ each week?

What terrible thing had Park Gunwook done to be handed such a fate by his own mother?

You stand up from your desk and meet Gunwook at the front of it. Walking in a tight circle around him, you examine every inch of him curiously as he stands at attention.

“Um, President-nim?” He asks without moving a muscle. “Can I ask what you’re doing?”

“Absolutely not,” you answer, bending down to look at his dress shoes. They’re more than a few years old and definitely not a designer brand, but somehow... they’re condition is nearly immaculate. Not to mention, the black, thin laces are tied in perfectly symmetrical bows. Huh. It’s pretty uncommon for a boy your age to care that much about the tidiness of his shoes.

“Weirdo,” you mutter under your breath as you stand back up. You have to crane your neck a bit to look Gunwook in the eyes; not only is he quite tall, you also realized you’re standing a bit too close to him. Stepping back slightly, you take a seat on your desk-- crossing your arms as you glare at him.

“Something not to your liking, President-nim?” He asks, eyebrows raised in question. 

You don’t answer. Instead, you ask a question of your own. “What makes you think you have what it takes to be my assistant?”

“I’ve been President of my class since middle school. I’ve placed in national debate competitions. I’m organized, responsible, and competent,” he responds confidently. But a little mischievous sparkle appears in his eye as he adds, “From what I’ve heard, those are qualities the President's office might need more of.”

“YA! Do you want to die, you little--...” As you threaten him, Gunwook has already gone back to his default polite smiling. “What’s wrong with you, huh? Don’t you know I can blacklist you for life with one phone call? Tell me why I shouldn’t--.”

“President-nim!” Gunwook interrupts your thought excitedly; pointing to a stack of papers sitting on the corner of your desk. “Are those spreadsheets that need executive review? I’m experienced in Excel if you're... too busy for them.”

You frown, picking up the papers in your hand and sifting through them. They are spreadsheets that need executive review. You’ve been putting it off for a week, because, believe it or not, you didn’t get a very spreadsheet-centric education at the fine arts university you attended. To think, you could be painting in your own studio all day every day. But instead your father wanted you to do something “sensible” and “respectable” that “made you worthy of receiving his estate some day”.

Not that you cared much about an inheritance. But at this point it was the least you were owed for sacrificing your life’s passion to goof off in an office for the rest of your life. It wasn’t like you particularly enjoyed being unhelpful or unproductive, but at just shy of twenty years old with a BA in Fine Arts... you hadn’t exactly been well-prepared for such an important job.

You look back up at Gunwook. He’s practically salivating at the mouth to get his hands on your routine paperwork. You hand him the stack of spreadsheets with a sigh: “Knock yourself out.”

Gunwook’s concerningly large hand snatches the papers from yours with lightning speed; hugging them to his chest happily. “Thank you, President-nim! I won’t let you down.”

You’re almost starting to believe him. 

“Right,” you agree, chewing your cheek as you walk back behind your desk. “Well, you get to work on those and have them back to me by... Uh...”

You’re struggling to think of a reasonable time frame for the spreadsheet reviews to be completed, since you’d never once been the one to finish them. Gunwook sees this and answers for you, “Tomorrow at noon, I think you were going to say, President-nim?”

“Tomorrow at noon,” you echo with a frown. You’re not sure you like how familiar this kid was becoming with you already, but at least he’d been far more eager to do your executive work for you than anyone had been thus far. You’d know by tomorrow at noon if he was truly capable or not.

“And where should I put them for you if you’re not in your office, President-nim?” He asks thoughtfully.

“Oh, um,” you stumble, looking around for a good spot. You land on the thin drawer at the center of your desk and point to it. “In here is fine.”

Gunwook quickly walks behind your desk to see the drawer, stopping at a respectful distance. He reaches towards the drawer, but when you realize his fingers are pulling the wrong handle-- the top of your desk is already lifting open before you can stop him.

“Whoah,” the boy whispers in awe as he stares at the giant watercolor landscape painting you’d been working on for the last week or so. You both stand in silence for a moment as you watch Gunwook take in every detail of your latest work. “This is incredible.”

“Thank you,” you reply softly-- folding your arms across your chest uncomfortably at the compliment. No one had seen your artwork for a while now; even mentioning it in your father’s presence sent him into a spiral.

“If you’re this talented, then why--... Why are you the president of a tech corporation?” He asks, eyes meeting yours now. He’s curious and concerned and confused. When he realizes he forgot to speak formally, he bows in apology. “I’m sorry, President-nim.”

“Sometimes a 'connection' isn’t what you wanted,” you say after a moment, sitting back down in your desk chair.

Gunwook swallows from beside you, taking a few steps back to the front of your desk. “I’ll help as best as I can, President-nim. I’ll do my work so that you can do yours.”

You blink back at him, a bit speechless. “O-... Okay.”

He bows, another 90 degree one. “Should I get started on these then, President-nim?”

“Yeah,” you agree, nodding slowly. “Yes. That would be good.”

Gunwook nods. “Thank you, President-nim,” he says, turning and walking towards the door.

“Gunwook-sshi,” you call suddenly, causing the young man to let go of the door handle in his hand and turn around. His eyes are wide as he waits patiently for you to continue. “Why did you apply for this job? Besides the fact that your mother works here.”

The boy smiles, answering simply, “I thought I would be a good fit.”

You exhale a laugh, rolling your eyes. “We’ll see.”

Gunwook’s smile turns to a grin as he nods again-- walking out the door and closing it behind him.

~

The end of the work day comes surprisingly quickly (and it may or may not have something to do with Gunwook). 

Okay, it has everything to do with Gunwook. 

To your very pleasant surprise, the teenage boy had been your best assistant yet by a considerable margin. All in the span of six hours, he’d color-coded your weekly schedule, ghostwritten five urgent emails to executives from partner companies, brought you your lunch order exactly how you prefer it, and reorganized your entire desk for you all while you painted next to him.

He didn’t ask you any unnecessary questions or disturb your peace; he just did his work so that you could do yours. Just like he said he would.

The end of the day came so quickly that when Gunwook knocked on your door to ask you if you were heading out for the day, you thought he was making one of his insulting-but-somehow-also-charming remarks about your lack of presidential work ethic again. But glancing at the clock, you see that he’s right-- it’s almost 7 P.M.

“I’m actually gonna keep working for a little while longer,” you respond before you catch Gunwook’s eyebrows raise. “You can go home now though. You have to be well-rested for another day of high school tomorrow.”

He sticks his tongue in his cheek and smiles at the joke. “I actually go to university now, President-nim. Part-time, but still.”

You find yourself trying to picture what Gunwook would look like on a campus: a grey hoodie, jeans, and his hair flopping into his eyes. In another life, one where you had a different father, maybe you’d still be going to university, too. Maybe you would've run into Gunwook and been his sunbae instead of the Guinness World Records holder for youngest president of a national corporation. Would you have noticed each other? Would you have been friends? Rivals? Something else?

Returning his smile, you dismiss, “Have a good night, Gunwook-sshi.”

“Have a good night, President-nim.”

You work on your painting for another hour before finally gathering your things and heading out the door for the night. On your way out, you see Secretary Lee typing away at her desk. When she spots you, she grimaces nervously.

“Oh, President-nim,” she greets as you walk over to her. “I hope you’re not too upset, but I thought that my son could--.”

“Could be the best assistant I’ve ever had?” You finish for her; watching as her face relaxes at your compliment. “You were right. And you better keep up the good work, Secretary Lee: Gunwook-sshi would make a great secretary.”

Secretary Lee swallows and nods at the hint of a threat. “Understood, President-nim.”

You smile, starting to head toward the exit before your curiosity stops you in your tracks. You turn over your shoulder to call, “Secretary-nim?”

She looks at you expectantly; if not also a bit nervously.

“Why did Gunwook-sshi want to be my assistant?”

She considers for a moment before replying, “After your... poor luck... with assistants these past few months, I couldn’t help but think my son had what it takes to change that. He’s always been such an overachiever. But he wasn’t really interested at all at first."

“Why did he change his mind?” You ask; wanting to understand a bit more about the incredibly competent, but slightly odd assistant that showed up at your office today.

Secretary Lee laughs quietly. “Well, to be honest... He only handed me his completed application after...

... I showed him a picture of you.”

[the-xolotl]

Dusk Meets Dawn at Twilight

Lucifer x moth!OC, Vésper

A/N: Fun fact: Vésper means evening star in latin.

Summary: Lucifer finds himself in a very low, vulnerable point and self isolation is all he knows. However, his trusty assistant unintentionally prevents that (I suck at summaries. I’m sorry :’))

—• TAGS/CW/TW: Angst, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, Lucifer struggling with very strong emotions, some use of non-verbal communication, crying, alludes to feather-picking, mentions of (angelic) blood, preening, Vésper isn’t good at emotions. but she’s emotionally intelligent enough, proof read, no heavy topics actually mentioned explicitly.

“Highness?” Vésper knocked tentatively at the door. Silence. She knocked again softly a couple times for good measure to make sure Lucifer hasn’t somehow not heard her. Still she was met with no answer, not a sound. Which is really odd even for his normal isolation habits, causing the moth demon to worry.

Vésper bit her bottom lip debating wether this really warranted going into the King’s quarters. Lucifer could go through bad periods of depression and bed-rotting, sure; days, weeks. But to not be seen for two entire weeks and none of the staff had spoken to him at all? Not even the work shop?

Vésper heard alarms in her head after one of the maids pointed out His Majesty’s bedroom doors were locked a few days ago. Immediately, she went to his door to find it locked just how the maid had said. Lucifer never did that, he’d avoid contact when he didn’t want it but he never locked doors or hide for this long without a word. The only thing that had kept her from trying to go in by force was that there was still shuffling heard from inside for a few days, which meant he was going about his room occasionally so understanding her King’s habits she let it be until today.

With a heavy sigh, she put her hand over the key-hole entrance reluctantly, “Your Highness, I’m coming in. I deeply apologize in advance,” she said in a raised voice ensuring he would at least be warned or be prompted to open the door willingly. After a beat of silence she concentrated a sphere of energy and bumped the lock of the door with it. Unfortunately she didn’t know any refined magic to make it smoother but she didn’t have a choice. The small blast that did minimal damage to the golden hinges while still doing the trick will have to do.

Prying the door open, just enough to take a peak inside, Vésper is greeted by darkness that her eyes quickly adjusted to. “Sir?” she tried again. Movement coming from the bed caught her eyes. She squinted at the big mass on the lavish bed, a groan followed. Quickly she entered just past the door and closing it behind her, “Sir, are you ok—“ her words cut off by a growl.

“Leave. Now,” She could recognize it’s Lucifer, despite how grovel it sounded. “I can’t do that, Majesty. You’ve been gone for two weeks,” she protests taking another step into the room. She looks around the room some more now that she could see better, realizing there’s not just an absolute mess and disarray but feathers everywhere. Red and white feathers littered across the room, even on whatever she can see of the messy bed.

A deep frown formed on her brow, about to speak again but was snapped out of her thoughts at Lucifer standing up from the bed, demonic form on full display, all 3 sets of wings spreading behind him making him look taller, puffing up to make him seem more intimidating.

“I said L̷̆͜Ȅ̴̃A̷̐̚V̵̛̈́Ḛ̵͐.̸̊̄ ̴̛̫W̴̕͝H̶̡͆Ö̶ Ǎ̮R̸E YOU TO DISOBEY YOUR ̸́́K̶͑I̓͑N̷̬̔G’S ORDERS?̵͕̈́” Lucifer lashes out, a stream a fire expanding towards the moth sinner making her tumble backwards and fall ass first. Screaming in terror she raised her arms to cover face, his outburst only missing her by a hair. She trembled in unbridled fear, eyes wide and fixed on the floor not daring to look at him again.

He realized a little too late what he’d done, he tried retracting his arm back seeing his assistant in utter panic. “Shit! I’m- I’m sorry Vés I didn’t mean to—“ Lucifer stammered, his voice sounding more normal but with a shake and hints of remorse. He tried to help her up but Vésper involuntarily flinched and backed away, a small sob slipping past her lips.

“God damn it,” he whispers under his breath, taking steps back from his assistant and falling on to the floor bumping into his night stand on his way down. Lucifer groaned in frustration wrapping his wings around himself, “I’m sorry Vésper. I didn’t mean to lash out, I’m so sorry…” his voice shook with a dead tone, like he’s near tears. But she’s too shaken up to respond.

She chances a glance at him eying the feathery cocoon he’s turned himself into. She could see little trembles and shaking of his wings with each breath he took. Lucifer is clearly in a vulnerable state, one she didn’t know how to help and with the panic still present in her body it was hard to move, let alone want to get near him.

Lucifer made no more advance toward her, giving her a chance to regain her wits about her. Logically she knew he’d never hurt her but Vésper had also never seen him angry, not even his demonic form in the time she’s worked for him. It’s jarring, exactly what she expected the Devil to look like, the stuff of nightmares.

But she managed to regain composure again after a while with deep breaths distracting herself with the state of the chaotically dirty chambers. The more she looked the worse it got; not only feathers and broken belongings but specks of a smeared golden substance. Not abundantly so, but mostly on the floor at the foot of the bed and on the sheets. Small splotches she’d worry about later.

Standing, her unsteady legs finally approach the ball of wings the King had turned himself into, “Sire…” she tried to coax sitting on her knees in front of the bundle, “It’s okay. I… I know you didn’t mean it,” softly she spoke tryin to peek between the messy feathers. Another thing she noticed now that she is up close is that the golden liquid is on him. More specifically on his wings and tips of his finger tips.

Lucifer sat with his knees against his chest and face buried in his hands from what she could see from between the matted fluff. She sighed silently, “I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

He looked miserable and something in her hated seeing a typically goofy man like him in such a state. It made her chest tighten to see Lucifer so vulnerable and emotional, this is a different level that she’s never seen. Despite herself, a gentle hand rose hesitantly to rest atop one of the wings as a gesture of comfort.

When she felt the wing move under her touch she flinched back worried she’d crossed a line. The wing parted a bit exposing his face once again, “How did you manage to get in?” asking softly his wings dropped a bit around him.

Vésper shifted not wanting to tell him just yet, “We can worry about that later, Your Majesty,” her eyes taking in his disheveled appearance, “I care more about your well being. Are you okay? Is there anything I can assist you with? It’s been weeks, we’re all worried about you, Sir.” Lucifer averts his glassy eyes in both shame and guilt.

Another long stretch of silence befell them. Lucifer felt weak, a little humiliated at being seen in a vulnerable position, he couldn’t bring himself to speak again or meet her eyes. He really hoped she’d understand, knowing it’s a little selfish to expect her to just know. He opened up his wings a bit more and stretched out a hand for her to take not really looking at her still. Only when his gaze flicked down to his palm signaling to take it, she got the hint the second time he did it.

His hand is oddly warm, she didn’t really have expectations but it’s still surprising angelic beings have body warmth. Deep inside she wished she knew what to do, Vésper herself isn’t great at expressing her own feelings let alone deal with them from others. So she thinks back to the times her Mother would comfort her as a child, holding Vésper to her chest and knowing just what to say to ease the baby in her motherly instincts. Unfortunately she isn’t as good as her Mother with these kinds of things.

Is that even what he needed? Everyone needs a little kindness, her Mother would often tell her, everyone needs a hand to hold. The moth sinner’s thumb gently caresses at his knuckles, holding his hand delicately. This goes beyond professional boundaries, but Vésper gets the sense he’s dealing with much more than seasonal depression or just a down period. For now she’d allow the lines of professionalism to blur for the sake of her King.

It seemed to be the right thing to do because eventually Lucifer had unwrapped himself from his wings, now letting them rest at ease and his legs are less tucked against him.

Even though it feels like it’s been hours by now, at best an actual hour had passed, but despite that the scare Lucifer gave her has now dissipated, watching his inner turmoil pass over his features and voided eyes is still nagging at her. He felt so far away, his eyes not particularly focused on anything, lost in who knows how many different thoughts and emotions. Closed off. Vésper debated on a couple thoughts, words she could say to make him feel better.

She gnawed at her bottom lip with the words at the tip of her tongue eyes fixed on the hand she held. The professional bounds had already been crossed she thought, fuck it.

“Do you need a hug?” she asked quietly, she almost hoped Lucifer didn’t actually hear her. Almost hoped he was zoned out enough.

The ex-angel blinked a couple times his head finally turning toward her, red eyes locking with the black void that are her eyes searching them for honesty. He definitely heard her, but paused to debate whether he could really accept the offer. If he could really handle it or if she really even meant it. Averting his eyes again he nodded.

Lucifer went to open his arms but Vésper pulled him up and closer to her as she stood up. She tried to follow the way her Mother comforted her, it’s the best she could think of doing. As soon as her arms wrapped around him, mindful of his wings, she rubbed his back slowly and soothingly. For a moment Lucifer stiffen at the gentle hold, a little startled at the touch he didn’t initiate himself but found himself relaxing in her arms and returning the hug.

Silence more comfortable than the last stretched over them again, very gently swaying from side to side while Vésper embraced Lucifer. It supposed to mimic the feel of being swayed in a Mother’s arms, though she’s unsure if he found it relaxing it sure helped her keep it together in this unfamiliar situation.

“Majesty,” She murmurs to get his attention, “Have you eaten?” He shakes his head no slightly without moving away from the embrace. “Have you taken a bath?” Again, he shakes his head. She hums in acknowledgment, “How about I go get you something to eat while you wash up?” Her tone gentle, struggling to maintain some formalities.

Lucifer is still not answering verbally but by the way his grip tightens she can tell he doesn’t want to let go.

“You can’t go this long without proper sustenance, please?” she tried again, “Besides, I need to also clean a little around here. There’s golden, sparkly splotches everywhere and on you.”

The mention of the gold liquid makes him freeze. He had forgotten about that, he only hopes she hadn’t payed too close attention to his wings in that moment. So he reluctantly let’s go avoiding eye contact, rather looking around his room at the absolute chaos. He grimaces at the gross mess and snaps his fingers, clouds of red smoke enveloping the entire room. When it dissipate everything is back in its place, floors are cleared and whatever had been broken is fixed as if nothing had even happened.

“Or… that…” She chuckles, “I’ll be right back, okay?” Lucifer only nods and heads towards a door on the other side of the room that she can only guess is his bathroom.

Taking a little longer than intended, but with practically a full food cart she returns to Lucifer’s private quarters. Knocking she warns of her arrival, “I’m coming in,” opening the door slowly and peeking to make sure she’s alright to come in. She’s greeted to the sight of the King sitting at the edge of his bed with messy damped hair undone wearing silky night attire with a duck pattern. Of course, she thinks shaking her head with the tiniest endearing smile. His wings are wrapped around him lazily again as he watches his assistant coming in.

“I don’t expect you to eat much or all of it,” She clarifies with a firm but gentle tone, “But do eat your fill. However much or little that is.”

The moth sinner rolls up to where he’s sitting and parks the cart in front of him. The first thing he goes for are the pancakes, Vésper finally relaxes since she came into the room hours ago. This is progress.

Lucifer offers by pointing at one of the plates but Vésper declines with a polite 'Thank you'. She takes a closer look at him, specifically the wings she doesn’t get to see very often. They were clean now, but still made a complete mess with askew and crooked feathers.

“Suit yourself, V,” Lucifer speaks for the first time since his earlier outburst. She grins, “Ah, and so he speaks,” she meant it as a small tease but the relief washing over her betrayed her a little making it sound like an endearing remark.

Lucifer sighs with a self-deprecating smile, “I apologize…Old habits.” The atmosphere threatens to turn tense again, “And I deeply apologize for scaring you and… almost hurting you. I really didn’t mean to,” Vésper can see the evident regret and honesty behind the apology. Except he didn’t really need to apologize, she had already forgiven him.

“You needn’t justify anything to me. If anything I should apologize. I was rude intruding in your privacy, Your Highness.”

“Lucifer,” he corrects.

“Pardon?” Vésper whips her head to look at him, eating the last bite of the pancakes.

“You might as well just call me Lucifer,” wiping his mouth with the napkin his put on his lap and sitting further up on the bed.

Vésper’s eyes widen at the scandalous suggestion, “I could never-“

Lucifer interrupts her, “You can. Your Kings says so,” a shit eating grin spreads across his face. How does she forget this man embodies the sin of Pride?

She sighs reluctantly, but still avoids saying his name, “As you wish,” is all she replies. He looks damn satisfied with himself, and she can’t even be bothered by the little antics being she’s more at ease that some of his usual personality is back.

With a deep inhale of air Vésper stands fixing her clothes and adjusting her neat attire. She rolls her shoulders slightly and stretching her own wings to ease the tension from the muscles due to the anxiety she had experienced most of the day. “Some rest is in order, yes?” She asks in her more formal tone looking at Lucifer expectantly. His smile falters and there’s visible disappointment in his eyes.

“You’re leaving?” What he wanted to ask is if she could stay, but being more aware of himself and senses more alert his pride didn’t allow him to ask so outwardly. He’d let his guard down enough for a life time, but the sinking loneliness is winning out. Feeling consumed by a darkness he’s barely escaping, Lucifer craves company so excruciatingly bad.

She also sensed it, even without knowing much about him it’s palpable. It just takes a little bit of empathy to realize he’s not doing well and he desperately needs something or someone to ground him in these trying times. She takes a glance at the window, bright red sky now a dark auburn indicating it’s late night. “I’m interested in you getting a full night’s rest. If my presence helps, I’ll stay if you so wish it,” Vésper offers. Meeting in the middle, she supposes in her head.

“Yes,” Lucifer nods, “Please.”

Vésper sat back down where she had been previously. However, Lucifer didn’t immediately tuck himself under the covers, instead stretched his wings in front of him. Slowly and delicately his clawed fingers started at the tip of his wings to take care of the messy feathers.

The sinner tried not to stare too deadpan at the King casually preening his expansive wings. Which now that she could take a better look at them, even in the dim light they seem to sparkle beautifully like freshly fallen snow. Or stars. Then she remembered he’s the morning-star.

She wonder how heavy 3 sets of wings are on his back, specially when all 6 of them are taller than he is.

She looked away closing her eyes briefly, feeling so unbecoming of shamelessly gawking. Even if he is right in front of her but it’s such a rare sight to behold it’s hard to not look. She glanced back again to see Lucifer struggling to comfortably reach the feather back rows. Without thinking before speaking she asked, “Require some assistance?” Lucifer looked at her pausing all his movements. Realizing what she said she wanted to disintegrate in that moment but she remained composed despite the embarrassment rising hot up her spine.

“Uh…” he blinked a few times, eyes looking between his wings and her, “You know what, fuck it sure. Just um… Be careful.” Lucifer shifted his position, showing his back to her. He laid out a singular wing out while tucking the other ones in. “It’s easier to do it with your index and thumb uh…” he makes the gestures as he explains, “And straighten it in the right direction.”

Vésper nods. Easy enough she tells herself. She gets to work as best as she can how he had indicated her, she wasn’t half bad just slower than he is and much gentler. Which he welcomed, he found it endearing how careful she’s being and Lucifer lets her find a rhythm on her own. Vésper has never touched something so soft in her entire life completely enthralled she stops herself from petting rather than preening. His feather puff and shake every so often to keep the feathers organized.

Lucifer thought she’d only help with the ones he had a harder time reaching but Vésper continued to the next wing row by row. Lucifer just let her finding comfort in the act of service. She found more confidence to speed up and let herself concentrate, kinda forgetting who she’s doing this for. There’s an unspoken intimacy they both pointedly ignore while she continued.

For once, Vésper was tired of the silence deciding to break it, “Even if they’re right in front of me, under my fingertips I still can’t fathom how gorgeous they are,” she said warmly continuing to the next row.

She heard Lucifer chuckle, “Pure divine, heavenly beauty,” However, the tone of his voice was less cheerful this time. Like longing. “Sometimes they feel like a heavy burden, though.” Vésper is taken aback by the confession, “Now they just feel like a cruel reminder of what I use to be and what was taken away from me. Of the failure I am.”

Bitterness tinted his words with a strong mix of regret. Vésper was about to speak again when she realized his shoulders had begun to shake, so she stopped the preening instead resting a hand on his shoulder. That’s when she heard it, small sobs falling from him with tears cascading down his face. The sight absolutely broke Vésper, the usually confident facade completely torn away, his air of arrogance he carried everywhere he went completely gone. Instead there’s a shell of a man that he keeps tucked away most days and in front of anyone left.

She did the only thing she knew to do, making Lucifer turn around to face her. He wanted to protest by bringing his wings around himself protectively. However, she didn’t allow him, pressing him into another hug and bringing him to her chest she patted his soft blonde locks.

“They’re part of you, but they don’t define you. Nor does where you come from,” She spoke barely above a whisper, “You are Lucifer Morningstar; the most powerful being in all of Hell and supreme ruler. You are not a failure.”

It was like a dam that had been sealed for millennia broke loose in that moment. Lucifer sobbed and shook in her arms, emotions completely overwhelming his being. His grip tightened around her assistant, sometimes tight enough to make it hard to breathe, not mentioning it she just comforted him through it. Years, upon years of suppressed emotions came crashing down at once and there was no closing the faucet until it dried out.

No words were spoken for a long while as she held the crying King, serving as a physical anchor and solace. Broken sobs one after another broke Vésper’s heart into a million pieces. She’s never heard so much pain coming from one person and she couldn’t help but hurt for him. A few tears also running down her face before she quickly wiped them away.

“Let it all out… I’m here…” she comforted. She tried with gentle affirmations, soft reassurances and there somehow wanting to find the right combination of words that would ease the immense pain. She knew she wouldn’t, yet still tried. He bagan to apologize profusely but she only shush him and encouraged him to hold her as long as he needed. This back and forth continued until he managed to fall asleep.

She guessed the exhaustion caught up to him once morning came because once the sobs had stopped, Lucifer was out cold. She struggled to unravel herself from him without waking him, but Vésper managed to get him laid down. She went to stand but a hand tighten around hers. Lucifer is still dead asleep, and even unconscious he didn’t let her go.

She smiled softly leaving her hand in his, pulling up a chair by the edge of the bed where she would remain until he woke up again. Sleeping half sitting and leaned over the mattress will have her body aching later but she couldn’t bring herself to leave. So she justified herself with the excuse that the King had requested that she stay.

A/N: ow this one took a really heavy toll on me :’) ngl i got a little emotional while writing it. funny how i spent a few days working on two smutty shots just to write this in a couple hours. i ended up finishing this one first so here it goes.

btw ! Vésper up to this point in time where this story takes place she had never seen Angelic blood nor did she know angels bled at all.

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© 2024 the-xolotl — all rights reserved. do NOT alter, translate, or repost my works on any platform without my consent, do not claim my content as yours.

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⤷ dividers : cafekitsune ✰

[janicekao]

May

The Gods Allow It

Pairing: King Aegon II x Black oc (dark smut) Summary: Based off of the series "House Of The Dragon." During a day of sitting on the irone throne and listening to the requests of the people of King's Landing, the young King Aegon sits through it clearly bored and unamused until he lays eyes on a beautiful woman who he has never seen before... A girl who is the daughter of King's Landing’s finest Blacksmith, Lady Tabitha Atkins. Warnings: mideival fantasy, time piece, rough s3x, d0m&femsub, vi0lence, smut, v1rginity taking, mentions of !ncest, fan fiction, br33ding k1nk, praise k1nk, etc. 9438 words I also recommend viewing the story in Wattpad where I was able to use 20 photos in the story instead of tumblr's 10. Wattpad link:

Enjoy my babies <3 -----------------------------------

Our bodies glisten with sweat as I throb inside of her tightening cunt, so very deep in her core that my swollen cockhead brushes against her cervix each time she bucks.

She loves it.

Voice whiny and full of sweet whimpers as she reaches for her climax, biting her bottom lip, and infatuated with how full she feels as she impales her cunny on my every inch.

I've lost count of the days since she's been here, and I have no hopes of her ever leaving.

Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing, daughter of Sir Joseph Atkins, the town's finest Blacksmith.

The absolute love of my life.

———

A far cry from a year ago or so, I sat the iron throne listening to all of King's Landing who came to their King with requests. My people were starving, poor, and in need of help. Families complained of starvation, farmers wished to be paid for their livestock that are eaten by our dragons, and the Blacksmith wanted payment for the many swords he slaved over hot fires to make my knights gear and weapons for war.

I honestly couldn't have cared less.

An elder half sibling of mine believes that she is the rightful heir to the iron throne, and because of this... War is now upon us.

I sat there that day lying to the faces of my people.

"You will be reimbursed for all that you have contributed for the sake of the crown." I yawned nonchalantly. "I, as King Aegon Targaryen II of all the seven kingdoms promise to take care of King's Landing first, after our victory in the Battle of Throne."

I knew it wasn't true, but I still said it. I am the King of Westeros, I'll forever take what is needed to protect my rights to the throne regardless of who may be affected in the long run. My dragons will be fed, and my men will be prepared for battle if any means necessary... The crown always comes first.

My dishonesty to the faces of the loyal people of King's Landing became easier said than done when the face of the Blacksmith, Joseph Atkins came along with the presence of an angel...

I lost focus. I wasn't able to lie any further, at least not to him and his company.

Each time this Blacksmith visits the throne with requests, he is covered in soot from working tirelessly near the scorching flames that burn and shape his metal... That day, the girl beside him was covered in it as well. Clearly a relative and I needed to know more about her.

Who was the girl with the shimmering brown flesh, long legged with full lips, and a breathtaking scowl?

I needed to know.

Sir Joseph Atkins began to speak about the reimbursement he required for the perfectly crafted steel he had produced for the crown's army.

I interrupted him without a single care of the words escaping his tongue. "Who is she?"

"Her?" He asked as I nodded with haste.

The gentleman stood with a proud chest. "May I present to you Your Grace, my daughter. Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing. My greatest gift from the Gods, and my trusty assistant in the Steel shop."

"Tabitha."I repeated the name with a wide smile as the word melted from my mouth like delicious cream... Gods, what a sight to see. The Hall quaked with gasps as I stood from my very own throne and bowed lightly to the tawny princess that needed to be mine.

An enchanting furrow in the brow from the nerves that fell upon her, clearly afraid of me, being that I am the King. She had obvious ill thoughts about me and my character... However gracefully, she bowed in return anyway.

It was unfair the way that she was making me feel. How much she made me come out of my usual corrupt comfort; I became determined to make her feel it too. I wanted her to be just infatuated with me as I suddenly was with her.

"The King's hand will prepare your payment, Sir Atkins." I immediately gave way to anything that would make Tabitha happy. If it was to pay her father for his labor, then so it be. "The crown appreciates your loyalty and skill."

A smile and a breath of fresh air released from the man. "Thank you my King!"

"—Under one circumstance." I interrupted. "Leave here Lady Tabitha. I'd like to familiarize myself with other youth of King's Landing... I am the King, as well as a young man."

Man to man, Sir Atkins knew exactly what I wanted with his daughter. He froze with an uneasy scowl, knowing good and well that if he left his child here with me, she'd be spent across my cock by nightfall.

But I had no plans to harm her. I gave my word. "Just for a small gathering. Lady Tabitha will be well taken care of here at the Red Keep. She will be returned, unharmed."

The elderly gentleman turned to his daughter. He waited for her permission even if it meant that denying me of her could have caused him his own head. Proud, and brave, Tabitha nodded in agreement. She wanted no issues with the crown... eager to do very much anything if it meant the safety and dignity of her family.

That evening for supper, an extremely long table divided us. Tabitha at the end, and I at the head of the dining table. The chambermaids had turned her prettier than a portrait, yet she still sat unhappy.

"Your Grace, you promised a gathering." She hesitated. "However, it is only you and I dining together."

Clearly I withheld the full truth... But why else would I had invited others when it was only her who captivated my attention, my entire being.

"The servants do not count?" Gently, I teased and waited for a laugh that never came.

"No, your Grace." Tabitha cleared her throat and frowned. "They do not."

I began to grow tired of her attitude. It was clear that she was not keen of her King and that she did not plan to make this evening any less difficult.

Being a considerably spoiled young man, it fumed me how bad I wanted her to accept me. As the King, I could do with her as I pleased. If I wanted to, I didn't need to wait a second more for her to embrace me, I could have taken her however I wanted.

Her dress enticed me. The chambermaids had dressed her in a low neckline and in my favorite shades... Colors that danced across her dark skin like velvet.

Although I smiled, my thoughts grew more wicked each second.

So used to women and whores falling at my feet and being far less difficult, my mind turned into impatient mush. My cock ached to be taken out of its confinements. I imagined masturbating over her until I could watch my seed drip down her face, breasts, and dinner plate.

... But instead, I sighed and kept my cuth. "Tell me about yourself." I insisted on conversation.

She paused.

"I am the daughter of a Blacksmith." Uninterested with where this could take us, Tabitha sighed as she began. "I take pride in taking care of my family, my community, and especially my younger siblings."

"How lovely!—" I went on to sweetly boast about her caring nature when I became rudely interrupted.

Tabitha continued abruptly. "—These are the very same people who starve daily as your loyal peasants. Yet, we still fill our every day catering to the likes of you, Your Grace. Giving our everything to the crown when we can hardly fill our own bellies. Livestock that our people raise big and strong for years just to be swallowed whole by your God awful dragons when that meat could be salted and last man an entire year of keeping King's Landing fed and surviving."

"People, children are sick and dying!" Tabitha shouted. "Eating fish from the surrounding waters for their every course because it is the only thing that is plentiful around here! Well, I can assure you one thing Sir... Guts from a fish is far from the daily nourishment that YOUR people need to survive..." That is what I can say about myself, Your Grace. I am your subject, not your friend."

"WINE." She demanded and the servants fetched it quickly.

She began to feed like a swine piglet. Gulping down rich wine and licking the bones of her lamb chops clean.

She was hungry, and she hated me.

The disrespect was unfathomable. I began to flame red, never had ever been spoken to in such way in my entire life. I couldn't tell in the very moment if I wanted to kill her, or fuck her senseless.

But what I did know is that I couldn't say my piece from far across the table.

I rose to my feet and the servants began to gasp. I shouted for their dismissal and Tabitha tensed when we became very alone in the dining hall.

She was the naughtiest thing I'd ever laid eyes on and I couldn't wait to take a bite.

Sitting in a guest chair an inch away from her, I could smell Tabitha's fear. But if you were to look at her grimace... you'd have not an idea that she was afraid. I was pissed, but Gods... If she wasn't fit for a Queen, I wouldn't know who else could be.

"I welcome you to the Red Keep as an honorary guest, and you sit before me spitefully accusing me of things that are far over your head, Lady Atkins do you have a death wish?" I bit through my teeth as my face inched closely towards hers.

"I am honest." She gulped.

"And honesty will get you killed." I snapped.

My eyes enjoyed being able to watch her so closely.

"Look at you, complaining of being starved with not an inch of extra room in this dress!" I taunted her as I pinched at her deliciously full thighs.

Tabitha squealed at my touch, she swatted my hand as tears swole in her eyes. "I was forced here!"

"Forced?" I sarcastically chuckled. "Ah yes because you seem to be so mistreated with wine dripping down your lips that is more expensive than you are."

Her jaw ticked with rage. "I don't have a price, I cannot be bought. I am not a whore.

"I never expected you to be." I frowned, aggravated at her lack of eye contact as my fingers graced her chin and turned her gaze back to me.

"Your chamber maidens bathed me." Her voice became weak. She was embarrassed that I had called on her in front of her father, in front of all of King's Landing.

I loved how she stared at me for answers... Tabitha's large brown eyes swallowed me up as her tears continued to swell. "They styled my hair, forced me into expensive garments, and shaved my cunt bare."

A chill down my spine made me shudder at the thought of her being so soft and silky beneath her dress.

"I am here to be your whore, am I not?" She asked impatiently.

"No." I refused. "Not my whore, but you are here to be mine, yes. To be my whore I would've bedded you by now, without a care of getting to know you. When I met you today I became captivated by you, I want you to feel the same."

She immediately rolled her eyes with a rude ill-mannered scoff.

"Play immature games if you want to, Tabitha... But never in your life have you come to the iron throne with your father." I dug further into her true intentions as her chest rose and fell in anticipation. "Now what made you come this morning on the day of requests, hm? Answer me!Is it because you had a request yourself? Or maybe you wanted to see the rumored usurper king in the flesh? No— you came to let me lay eyes upon you, so you could play with my heartstrings. I believe you knew what you were doing all along, what do you think?"

...

Tabitha gulped, she turned away once more from my gaze as she continued with her supper. "I think perhaps you should leave my space and try the pudding, aren't you starved?"

"More than most." I snarled. "But not for fucking pudding."

Swiping the table clean, Tabitha's tray of royal cuisine met the ground.

I grabbed hold of her, lifting her onto the tabletop as I searched frantically beneath her skirt.

She gasped, immediately forgetting formalities as she shouted out my first name. "Aegon!"

"Hush." I demanded. "Let your King take care of you."

I ridded her small clothes as if I was a child unwrapping candy. I pressed her chest backwards, forcing her to lay against the table as the skirt of her dress crept above her waist.

Gods, she was as prepped and bare as she had promised. Between her thighs glossed over with the arousal she had been denying and her mound was bountiful like a deliciously ripe peach.

My mouth attacked at her without letting a drop of her nectar go to waste. The kisses I laid upon her clit made her jolt and whimper in desperation.

Tabitha's hands pushed away at me to the point of having to force her wrists to the table as I devoured my meal. I allowed her sweet digits back when they began to comb and grip lightly through my platinum-white Targaryen tresses.

Her moans were sounds of gratification... All I've ever wanted was someone, anyone to wish me a job well done. Commend me of my efforts and assure me that I was indeed a good boy. "Is it good for you?"

Her choked sobs were enough of an answer... Her flesh flushed red as her pussy began to pulse and I knew she would soon climax across my lips.

Tabitha's hips began to grind across my face as she reached urgently for her precipice. Her pleads made her voice crack as the sound of her brain-rot echoed through the dining hall. My thumb circled her pearl as my tongue dipped in and out of her core. She came with a flavorsome cry, I groaned into her pussy and drank her release like a man starved. My tongue soaked her sweet cum up as freshly baked bread does balsamic oil.

My trousers so full of sticky precum and a hard cock, it made me brutish. I lifted Tabitha in my arms bridal style as she lay tiresome and still in shock. I warned her of my plans... I warned her that I was to take her to my chambers and we were to spend the night... the coming days... the coming weeks and months with nothing but earth shattering sex. I was to take her maidenhead, and make her part of the Red Keep, part of me.The argumentative minx had not one issue with what I had informed her with. She no longer cared to save herself for a husband because in that very moment, I was just as much hers as she was mine.

I carried her out of the dining hall with orders to the Hand of the King of what I wanted completed.

"Have the cooks prepare the same supper and have it delivered to the Atkins residence." I demanded. "Make sure it's enough for them to share with whomever they may desire."

"Anything else Your Grace?" I was asked.

I stared in the round brown irises that won my heart over.

"Aye." I nod. "Gather the council by morning-fall. King's Landing is starving, their King needs to mend their trust. Rationing... will be the subject matter of discussion."

Otto Hightower, My Grandsire and King's Hand stared at me with looks of daggers... I could see that he saw me as a foolish King, changing plans and making differences for the likes of a woman... but I couldn't have cared less.

With the title of being King of Westeros, anything is possible and everything is in my hands.

Hightower bowed. "I will relay your message to the council, Your Grace."

I looked towards Tabitha and the scowl that stained her face was finally gone... Now left with a magnificent smile that seemed to be gifted by the Gods themselves.

Our lips met as we journeyed to my chambers. As I stole her maidenhead, she stole my heart. We drank, we laughed, I even found that we shared the very same night of birth under the summer season and full moon twenty-two years ago. She was me, and I was her. Finding her was the sense of completeness I had been looking for my entire life.

———

"Aegon! I hate when you do that." Tabitha complains. She takes notice to my quiet daydreaming as she continues to ride me as if I was saddled. "Focus on me, baby."

I chuckle sweetly as I find my bottom lip bitten between my teeth, refocusing on her tight cunny that chokes my manhood and drains my stamina. "I always am focused on you my love. I found myself reminiscing on the day that I made you mine. Nearly a year today, an approaching anniversary... Thoughts help me holdout a bit until you have reached yours, now it's my turn."

"Ah yes... The day I met you upon the iron throne. I should've known trouble was amongst me." Tabitha softly flirts.

"I waited." She begins to smile, whispering against my lips. "Wanted to reach ecstasy, together."

"Mmm." I hiss lightly, adoring her wildly. "Tabitha Atkins of King's Landing... I love you with every being of my body."

"Then show me." She insists.

...

I do as I'm told.

As I lay Tabitha onto her back, my hand slips across the soft skin of her belly, through the full globes of her breast, and to her throat where I begin to choke lightly. Her legs spread, inviting me into her warmth and it only takes a second for me to find my flesh sheathed in the depths of her core.

I find a rhythm that is rough and commanding and I watch her lips fall open with strangled gasps. Tabitha attempts at a wiggle to separate us. Wanting me to allow her a momentary second of rest before she melts into the sheets. However, overly dizzy for her sex, I refuse the escape... pressing my heavy body further against hers and deepening my impale. The walls of her cunt contract against my cock, I begin to feel numb and see stars as my words stammer dumbly. Gods... Her sex could rise a dead man from the ground, and I'm the only one lucky enough to have had it.

"Fuccckk." A groan escapes the depths of my throat as I nearly give in and spill into her.

Tears of passion fill her luscious lash line and she can only squeak out soft sounds as her digits grip the sheets beneath us.

Licking my lips like a hungered man, I begin to grin as I watch her in her blissful pleasure. I cup Tabitha's face and kiss her tenderly as the kisses create faint bruises down her neck and soon down her chest where I begin to enjoy the swirling of my tongue across her aroused buds.

"You looked incredible wrapped around my cock." I softly appreciate her breathtaking beauty.

I roll my hips in a speeding passion as my cockhead knocks impatiently at her g-spot. "Aegon— please."Tabitha weeps out a beg as her nails find way into my skin.

Her pussy sops for me, creating lewd music that echoes within the walls of my chambers.

My mouth hangs ajar as I moan out worships for her.

"Gods!" I complain. "My sweet girl, does that feel good?"

She nods immediately. "So good— so good, Aegon."

My pounding weakens as I feel the need to erupt. I grab Tabitha's full hips, dimpling them with the strength of my fingers as I stretch her with the full length of my cock... I bottom out into her until my sack is flushed against her cunt and begins to drain. Tabitha dissolves into pleasure as my hot seed spickets into her core while she reaches her peak.

I expel constant grunts, body jerking each time my cum stutters a bit of its load out of me until I am left limp and soaked in a mess of our love.

Tabitha's eyebrows furrow as she powers her way through an intense climax, legs shaking until the thrill passes by her. Her chest rises and falls as she draws in breath, soon beginning to chuckle in disbelief of the moment that we have shared together..

"Gods!" She pants sweetly. "Again, Aegon?"

I chuckle gently as I place a gentle peck to her lips. I begin to peel her knees further apart. My lip catches in between my teeth as my pupils dilate, watching closely at the foray I caused upon her pretty little mound.

"Let me watch it leak out of you." I insist as my body heats again with arousal while I  watch my pearly spend seep out of her pretty flower.

The corners of her lips begin to quirk upwards, teasing me gently as she pushes the semen out of her core and let it seep down her thighs.

My jaw clenches, eyes rolling back into my skull. "Fuck that's good, and you my dear— are terribly delicious and absolutely evil."

Tabitha finds her way to my chest, having me to lay backwards in the pillows and wrap my arms around her as she listens in on my heartbeat.

She sighs gently. "What's evil, is having to drink another of your Maester's tea."

"Aegon." Tabitha begins to pout over the awful medicinal herbal tea used to prevent or abort pregnancy. "If I am to drink another Moon-Tea, I think I'll die."

My hands gently comb through her wild mane of jet-black curls, full and thriving in its natural state after another day of addictive fucking. "So don't drink it... give me child, my dear."

She immediately lifts her head from my chest with a scorning frown. "You've gone mad."

"I haven't." I insist. "What will come of us? How will we create a stain, evidence of our love?"

"Aegon." She refuses the thought. "You and I cannot marry. You must marry a high-born, not the daughter of one of your subjects. Our children would be Targaryen bastards!"

"Yes!" I continue to plead. "Haven't you given it thought? My Targaryen hair, your tawny skin, and big brown eyes... the most handsome children in all of Westeros. They'll have it all. They will speak High Valyrian and ride their own dragon... Tabitha, please."

"Aegon, don't begin with this." Her refusal is unbending. She begins to dress in her nightgown, giving my voice not another thought. "With your hair, it would be clear that my children are Targaryen bastards. You'd be looked down upon as a whoring King, and I'd be looked down upon— well, as the whore!"

I scoff. "So we will wrap their hair in garment in the eye of the public if we must! It does not matter Tabby, they will be protected always and live under my roof as Princesses and Princes."

"You asked me if I have ever given it thought..." She rejoins me on the bed with a gentle hold to my hand. "I've thought about it every day since we've met, Aegon. Don't you think that I would love to be your Queen and have your children? It would be my dream to have a family with the man that I love. But sadly, that's all it will ever be, a dream.We both knew the risks of being together. We recognized that our relationship would be kept forever secret and we still went on about it. Aegon, please don't make this any harder than it already is."

Dying to continue the conversation, I even begin to imagine her womb full with my seed. I'd be sure to have the servants wait on her hand and foot... She'd wear the prettiest gowns, and her essence would make the Red Keep the most beautiful it's ever been as she would fill it with her fertility and grace.

However, the tears in her eyes pain me more to see... I can't bear to stress the situation any longer.

...

"Let's have a night of rest." I smile softly. "Only sweet dreams for thoughts."

I softly wipe Tabitha's fallen tears as she nods in agreement.

Becoming meek and childlike, she dissipates into my arms as I blow out the candles that light our chambers, and I tuck her into the satin sheets.

"Goodnight." I coo faintly. "No more worries my love, rest now."

———

Morning light stings my eyes as they begin to open, I find my dearest Tabitha above me, already dressed for the day.

I sit up from bed with playful and light jester. "Out of the many hours of morning sex that we should be having, why are you already dres—"

My words are cut short with a cruel slap across the face.

My ears ring from the forceful strike and when they finally stop, I find my lover absolutely distraught and in tears...

As my hearing comes back, my heart aches from the way that she sobs. "Tabitha?" I instantly whimper.

"You vile— sick, sick, man." The words grit through her teeth and I worry frantically for what it is that she has found out.

"YOU FILL ME WITH YOUR DISGUSTING SEED!" She begins in thunderous shouting. "You speak of a life where we are to have children together, when you have already fucked two inside of your own sister!"

My blood runs cold knowing that she knows my darkest regret... "I need to explain."

"I awaken early on the search for your Maester! For him to begin a batch of the Moon-Tea, and that is when I overheard it all!" Tabitha begins to lose color... her brown skin paling from heartbreak. "Your mother, the Maester, and your seventeen year old sister Helaena! She was lying on her back! Having an inspection by the Maester beneath her skirt when she was congratulated by him and your mother for bearing your twins! They congratulated her as the bloody Queen of Westeros!"

"Tabitha, damn it!" I spazz and my mind begins to spin with shame and anger. "The nerve of you to slither around your King's castle! Eavesdropping in on business of not your own!"

"FUCK YOU!" She spits. "I am so disgusted that I can hardly breathe without the need to vomit! Not only have you lied, withheld from me that you had already found your Queen and have been married! But for the sake of the Gods, SHE IS YOUR BABY SISTER!"

"DON'T YOU THINK I AM ALREADY DISGUSTED WITH MYSELF ENOUGH?" I stand to my feet to argue and my height frightens Tabitha enough to flinch at the tone of my voice. "I had no say in this Tabitha! Helaena and I hated the thought but it was pushed amongst us by the council! By our mother! They did not want just a high-born queen! They wanted the bloodline strictly Targaryen! This was forced upon us, Tabby!"

Tabitha's delicate hand graces her forehead as the other places on her stomach as she begins to feel even more ill. "You bedded your sister...Relieved yourself of pleasure inside of her..."

"Hear me when I tell you that it will only ever be once..." I tremble as I notice the love drain from in between us. "I was promised that giving the title of Queen to my sister and giving her an heir to the throne on our wedding night, that you and I would never have to separate... I was promised your very own knights of protection for you and your loved ones and that you all could live permanently here in the Red Keep. You are to by my only lover! Helaena maybe my Queen, but she and I view each other as only siblings!"

I clench my eyes tightly shut, reminiscing on the night I was forced to take my sister's virginity. I drank myself silly with wine just to bear it, and poor Helaena and I stuck it through for the sake of the crown.

"Gods! So now I am to blame for this incestral breeding!?" Tabitha scoffs. "You are absolutely sick in your head Aegon! I never would have agreed to this! EVER!"

As I step closer to her to beg for her forgiveness, Tabitha steps back.

"I must leave now..." She gulps. "I cannot— I cannot be apart of this, the Gods aren't happy."

"I love you." Tears begin to drop down my face and I stutter like a child being disciplined. "I need you. You cannot leave! I can— I can fix this."

I plead aimlessly. "I am the King of the seven kingdoms. You will never need nor want for anything regardless of your status here in the castle. You're mine."

She ignores me...

Tabitha wipes her tears and grabs for her cloak to leave the Red Keep through the secret exit.

Without a thought of what to do, I become a mad man... using my title and authority to get what I want.

"I AM YOUR KING!" My jaw ticks as I shout. "YOU ARE TO DO AS YOU ARE TOLD OR ELSE! YOU ARE MINE, TABITHA. I WILL NOT REPEAT MYSELF. I DEMAND YOU TO SIT DOWN AND GO NOWHERE UNLESS TOLD OTHERWISE!"

...

Tabitha freezes with tears and hatred burning within her eyes.

"Fine." She gulps, suddenly stripping out of her garments and lying back in bed. "As you make clear a million times a day or more, you are King Aegon Targaryen of the seven kingdoms. If you shall want me your Lordship, there is nothing I can do other than to continue being yours. But I'll have you know, from this day on I will never love you the same."

"Tabitha, please."I beg softly for her to stop the act of kissing loyally at my arse like the rest of King's Landing... I just want her back, I want everything the way that it was.

"Will you have me, or am I free to be dismissed your Lordship?" She lays on the unmade bed, still and avoiding eye contact.

"YOU WILL STAY!" I explode.

"Yes, Your Grace." She continues calmly. "I am ready to be used whenever you are ready to use me."

"What are you doing? Get up!" Her act of a common whore aggravates me further.

She continues anyway. "I am your loyal servant, Your Grace. Do as you please with my body."

"Get up!" My voice breaks as I continue to argue one-sidedly. "Quit with this foolishness. Your taunting is unacceptable!"

"Tabby, call me Aegon." I beg sheepishly. "Baby, I am your Aegon."

She continues robotically. "Whatever you ask, Your Grace."

I fully erupt. Grabbing hold of the full steel canister of wine, I throw it across the chambers until it hits the wall... crumbling stone to the ground from the force.

The throw startles Tabitha, she breaks out of her act and tearfully attempts to run past me. I grab hold of her wrists, pulling her into me as I beg for another chance. "Tabitha! Please! Please stop, I need you."

"Get away from me!" She fights senselessly, bruising herself as she tries to pull from my grasp.

The large double doors of my chambers open... The racket causes my mother Alicent to intervene. "What is going on in here!?"

"Mother!" I demand. "Out of my chambers!"

...

She watches upon the love of my life as if she was a stinky street harlot.

"You should leave." She speaks to Tabitha. "The King's Queen will be visiting her husband shortly."

"You mean his sister." Tabitha quickly bites.

...

"Aegon, I'll have your whore's tongue for less." Mother begins to boil over from the unfamiliarity of Tabitha's sharp tongue.

"No worries, Your Grace." Tabitha wipes her tears, bowing to my mother respectfully as she laces the last loop in the corset of her dress. "I was just leaving."

"Tabitha!" Although still bare and only wrapped in a sheet, I still attempt to chase after her as she exits. However, my mother stops me...

"It's for the best." Alicent's hand stops me at the chest. "A King who is at war over his throne does not have time to worry about the heart of a common girl. Aegon... You are King now. The responsibility of the crown is in your hands, act like it."

I watch my mother with pure hatred...

So quick to worry about the well-being of the crown, and never once the wellness of her children.

If she hadn't brought me life, I would have had the guards take her head many moons ago.

"Your chambermaids are on the way to dress you, my King." Mother smiles maniacally and caresses my face with her soft hand. "You must sit the throne today for King's Landing's requests... They need their King, Aegon. You'll have to let her go."

Let her go?

Easier said, than done.

Together, we watch Tabitha run out of the trailing hallways of the Red Keep.

Her image and the sound of her footsteps become smaller the further that she runs... And the further that she runs, the more prominent my heartache grows.

Mother stares in disgust. "She never had the strength of a Targaryen anyways... it wasn't meant to be."

Doing as told... I dress for the day as mother leaves.

Although I am escorted to the hall of the iron throne to answer the requests of my subjects, my eyes continue to fill with tears. I push them back, needing to find strength for my people. But, how am I to answer requests, when there is no one to answer my own?

Who is there to request a plead from a King? Perhaps the Gods...

Perhaps the Gods will fulfill my one and only request, to bring back the love of my entire being... My forever lady, Tabitha Atkins.

———

Three years later

I wake up in absolute agony, shouting for more Milk of the Poppy to dull my pain.

Ever since my incident, I tend to sleep all day due to the medicines given to me by the Maester. As I sleep, I either dream about the love that I lost years ago, or I dream about the terrible events of my most recent near death experience.

I've made awful decisions in my short term of being King, but nothing as bad as riding my dragon into a battle while being inebriated off of too much wine.

I had a death wish... A foolish one at that. But tired of living a life of depression, loveless, and never taken seriously... the mind will drive you to do insane work.

I may be the face of the crown, but my council and my mother feel that my ideas are idiotic and simple... They feel that I was never fit to rule, and that I should sit quietly and be useless, let them take control of the rulings of Westeros.

First they take a man's love, and then they take his power. What could be next now that they've taken it all?

I became careless with the things that I do... I decided to get wine drunk and I rode my poor dragon Sunfyre into the battle at Rook's Rest... A battle I had no business being at. Somehow I survived it... Third degree burns laced across my body, yet I am still here.

But the worst part of it all is knowing that the reason Sunfyre and I were burned to the ground was all out of one person's spite.

My own brother... Prince Aemond...

My last memory before everything went black for months was Aemond's dragon Vhagar opening his gullet of fire after Aemond's command.

"Dracarys." He attempted to kill me with this command.

I realized then how much I have absolutely no one in this life... Aemond, just like our mother Alicent, thirsty and jealous for the crown to the point of sabotaging their own blood.

My brother expected me to die that day. He expected to permanently become the King, but because I survived, he only fills my place on the throne momentarily...

As I become better, I still fear for my life. If he tried to kill me once, he is sure to try it again.

I spent my days childishly being my brother Aemond's first bully... and now I am reaping what I sewed. But as dangerous as he is, and the things that he is capable of doing... I could never trust the innocent people of Westeros in his hands, especially not with Tabitha Atkins and her family still living here in King's Landing.

With Aemond in charge, there will be war and there will be blood... Not just bloodshed from each fighting side, but deadly war crimes to Westeros' innocent subjects.

If all things are out of my control in this very moment, the least I can do is get word out to Lady Tabitha... thus I owe to her.

Grand Maester Orwyle enters into my chambers with more Milk of the Poppy, but being that there are things to be done... I cannot take it.

"Maester..." I begin. "No more Milk of the Poppy."

"But for your pain, Sire?" He frowns.

"I understand." Even the small things like gulping down my throat or speaking pains me in this day. "But my mind must stay sharp, I have a task I need you to complete with the guards... I need it done discreetly."

"Yes, Your Grace." Maester Orwyle nods. "Whatever you may need."

As I lay here, I begin to create a plan. I order the Maester to discreetly bring Lady Tabitha Atkins to my chambers here in the Red Keep. I ask him to bring help if needed be, knowing that Tabitha could good and well stubbornly refuse my command... I demand that if the girl attempts do dismiss Maester Orwyle, that he will instruct the guards to take her from the residence by force. Speaking with her is a dire need of mine not knowing what may happen in the future with my brother in charge as Prince Regent.

Maester Orwyle begins to leave with haste...

I stop him once more... Suddenly I become insecure with my injuries, wondering how my deformities look being that I haven't seen my reflection since my injuries were fresh.

"Maester." I gulp. "My skin... Am I able to even take a visitor, or am I still leaking of pus and absolutely hideous?"

Having to ask a question like such is the hardest thing I have ever done... I never in my life expected to ask another man if my flesh was still charred and horrid.

A tear rolls down my face and Maester Orwyle kindly takes my hand... "Your Grace..." He assures. "Your incident was months ago, although you may be forever disfigured, your skin has healed, and your heart is still gold. If the Lady ever truly cared for you, Sire... The last of her worries will be of your appearance."

...

His words stick with me... I begin to pray to the Gods that he is right. My only hope is that a moment within my gaze is enough to help Tabitha look past my monstrous image... Enough to let her hear me out for just a second of her time.

As I lay in bed, battered and bandaged, I continue to wait to see Tabitha's presence.

Three years have passed and I continue to think about her daily... I wonder if she has changed any, I wonder if she still hates me, I wonder if she's happy.

After many hours, my chamber doors finally open and Tabitha hurries in with haste. Tears melt down her cheeks as she crawls in beside me in bed and she lays on my scarred chest.

The weight of her body pains me a bit, yet I've never been more grateful to feel a pain in my life.

"Your Grace..." Maester Orwyle grins. "The guards were not necessary, when Lady Tabitha heard word of you being alive, she nearly beat us all here."

I immediately begin to sob. I wrap my arms around Tabitha tightly and Maester Orwyle leaves us to our long embrace.

Her curls smell of smoke and fire, clearly having been working in her father's steel shop. I inhale her missed scent deeply.

"I apologize Your Grace that I am not put together." Tabitha gulps. "I have soot and ash all over me. I've spent the day working with my father... There has been an order from Prince Aemond and the crown for a hundred swords by the end of the week or my father will be hanged!"

"Don't apologize." I insist. "You look glorious. Pretty as the very day that I met you at the iron throne. Fear not of your father's death... I'll be sure that it will not happen."

"Tabitha..." I gulp. "Why were you so willing to accept my invitation? I believed that you hated me for so long..."

"I did." She admits. "But we have had years apart, Aegon. I was able to mature and came to realize that you and Helaena were victims of something horrible... Victims of the unjust treatment of the crown's council, and forgive me for saying, but— the unjust treatment of your mother as well!"

"I know... I know."The thought of what the council forced upon my sister and I still haunts me to this day.

"I was disgusted... even a bit jealous the day that I left the Red Keep." Tabitha continues. "But what I regret the most is not standing up for you, my King. The news spread like wildfire through the streets of King's Landing... We saw your dragon, Sunfyre's lifeless body dragged through town and the rumor was that you were dead as well. When your Maester found me with the news of you being alive and wanting to see me, my feet never stopped running the cobblestones of the city until I was here in your very chambers... being able to see you for myself."

I begin to hate the way her eyes examine my body, I no longer look of the man she once knew. "I'm hideous."

"You're brave." She cups my face. "You are heroic and you survived a dragon's fire... A death that no man has ever escaped! King Aegon, stories and songs will be sang about you for centuries."

Tabitha smiles sweetly. "Cry not, Your Grace. You are a legend, and you are still here in the land of the living."

"Shall we change our thoughts to joy?" She asks with an enchanting giggle. "As I was led to your chambers, I heard youthful laughter in the courtyard. I assume they were your children? Your twins, a boy and a girl, yes?"

I pause... Not sure of how to relay the bad news out of my own mouth.

"At one time, yes..." I begin. "But as this battle for the throne continues, a criminal was sent to the Red Keep... As my son, my heir, slept in his crib... he was beheaded. My three year old child was murdered in his own bed by our enemies... His life, drug through the dirt and taken in war crimes to prove a point! To one up me for the throne."

...

Tabitha's eyes immediately glass over, turning pale and frozen with shock. "Gods... Aegon... I'm— I'm so sorry."

I softly refuse her pity. "I've done my share of grieving. I've cried until I dehydrated myself and my sister has not left her chambers since the day that it happened..."

I groan in pain as I sit up in bed with urgency "But this is what was so important for me to tell you. Dear Tabitha, the war has gotten out of hand. I believed that I was only fighting a half sibling for my throne, but it seems that I am fighting my full-blooded brother as well."

I continue to explain. "Tabby, in the battle at Rook's Rest my own brother Aemond is who burned me to the ground with his dragon... I realized then that every beating heart around me wants what I have. For the throne, there is no love lost... they will attempt to kill me for it, weaken me by killing the ones that I love most! After my boy was taken from me, I began to think of who else my heart beats for that my enemies could injure me with... My heart only is full for my children, and for you.A woman who time could not even stop me from loving."

"Tabitha, you're in imminent danger." I finally am able to warn her. "I called for you here today, knowing that my brother is out of the Red Keep running an errand... It was the only chance that I had for him not to see you."

Her head spins with all that I have to say... So much information that her and the rest of King's Landing have been kept from knowing all this time. "Aegon! And you are in danger as well! Your brother tried to murder you and now you still lay within the same walls of the Red Keep as him!? Has he come to you since?!"

"Daily." I admit. "Daily with threats to keep my mouth shut... Threats of keeping me unwell so I can never heal and come back to the throne. I lay in this bed, broken and exhausted... Afraid of every door creak, just awaiting and expecting Aemond to come inside and finish me off."

"Tabitha, I am terrified everyday." My voice begins to tremble. "But what is more frightening is imagining him come after you instead. My brother wants to see me pained and ill. As I lay nearly paralyzed in this bed, I can only imagine the evil he'd commit to break me further down. Aemond would have you captured. He'd bring you to these very chambers to beat, rape, and torture you in front of my very eyes, knowing that I am unable to stand and rescue you."

Poor Tabitha's eyes fill with fear.

"I am to leave King's Landing..." I continue. "A dear colleague of mine, Larys Strong is helping with my escape. He was born crippled, walking with a limp and a cane. He has taken pity on me now that I am crippled as well. Larys and I will escape King's Landing and he will take me to a proper place to heal and be protected from my brother and all who have ill intentions towards me. But the Gods know... I cannot leave this castle without knowing that you have escaped too. I will not leave, until I am absolutely sure that you are safe and out of King's Landing."

She begins to refuse. "My family and I— we cannot leave, Your Grace! We have very little means, we only get by each day by the grace of the Gods."

"The table, first drawer to the left." I interrupt. "Hurry Tabitha, make haste and come back to me."

...

Confusion eats at her before she is able to do as told. Sweet Tabitha sniffs her many tears back, wiping her eyes to see the contents of the drawer. She takes out a small burlap sack filled with coins of gold...

Gold shillings, that I have prepared for her to take.

Her eyes widen at the contents of the sack. "Your Grace, I cannot take this."

"You will." I demand.

"I won't!" Stubbornly, she hesitates.

I snap, drawing in the fullest breaths of air that my wounded lungs can hardly manage; I begin to shout. "Tabitha! Damn you! You will take it and you will flee to safety at nightfall, do you understand!?"

I begin to cough as the shouting drained me of my energy.

"Your Grace..." She cries. "I am not worthy of taking anything from you."

...

Now that we have gone on living very different and separate lives, I hadn't planned to bring up her personal business... But if it will help our cause, then I must.

I sigh. "Do you feel not worthy of my gift, because you're with child?"

Her eyes grow largely once more... She nearly begins to stammer. "Y-Your Grace?"

"Tabitha please..." I reject her lies. "I memorized the every freckle of your body as if it were my favorite poem. You wouldn't think I would notice your glowing skin, full bosom, and womb?"

...

Her head swivels as shame begins to embarrass her. Tears fall down her cheeks as she covers her mouth in shock. "I don't know what to say. Your Grace, I thought I wasn't to ever see you again... I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." I plead softly. "I'm not angry, just please, come sit.Tell me of your husband. Does he treat you well?"

She tearfully chuckles, relieved that I am not angered for her moving on without me.

"Yes, my King." Tabitha joins me back onto the bed where my right-side isn't burnt and destroyed. "He's a good man. James Bartholomew of King's Landing... A Fisherman at the ports. We wedded five months ago, and he loves me."

I smile. "How could he not? You are perfect. And in another four more months, you'll be a mother. A fantastic one at that, Lady Tabitha Bartholomew."

"He loves you." I gulp. "But do you love him?"

"I'd like to believe so... But if I am honest with myself and to the Gods, what you and I shared many moons ago, is a love I believe that I'll never see again in this lifetime." Her honesty breaks me apart... Yes, the love that we shared is something we could never find twice.

My eyes wonder at her charming baby bump. "May I?"

Tabby nods in agreement.

Beneath her skirt, my right hand reaches towards her stomach where I begin to feel the child's kick. "The bairn will be strong, I sense a little lad. I can already feel his strong presence and movement."

Tabitha blushes sweetly... Her adorably round cheeks blush and swell into large red apples.

I feel sorrow as I begin to wish the child was mine... I can't help to think about the many opportunities Tabitha had to carry my own child just as beautifully. But sadly, our titles never were to allow it.

I begin to pull away, and my hand slips further down... Beneath her navel I find my digits awfully close to the warmth of her cunt and my breathing begins to shutter.

...

Tabitha gently gulps. "Will arousing you relieve your pain, my King?"

I tighten my eyes closed. "Your sex would make me whole again, Tabitha."

I sigh. "But I can't... I am burnt, disgusting, and alone... I am a cripple. My cock is destroyed, did they tell you that? It burst in the flames like a sausage on a Spit. I can't even piss without it running down my leg." (🤣 Actual quote from the show)

My jaw painfully ticks in irreparable low self esteem. "There is nothing down there to arouse, my love."

...

Tabitha pauses. "Perhaps... your mind?"

Is it even possible to release endorphins without using my cock?

Could it be?

I frown with confused thought. "Perhaps."

My only good eye watches as Tabitha takes her petite hand to my wrist... She guides it between her thighs where I am suddenly able to feel her slick.

Quietly I gasp, never in my life expecting to be able to have sexual romance ever again.

My fingers begin to become slippery as I tease through her folds...

Lying on the pillow next to me, Tabitha's sweet whimpered breaths dance across my face. I watch as her eyebrows furrow in pleasure and she begins to nibble on her bottom lip.

As I find her pearl, my fingers lightly tap at it as her nails begin to dig in my arm as she holds on to it tightly.

As I slap lightly at her clit, my digits make the sound of quiet splashing. So wet and horny, I would have been buried my cock in her if I still had my staff of flesh.

The intense teasing on her bulb causes her knees to collapse in on each other. "mm'Aegon—" Deliciously she begs. "You'll have to stop that, I'll finish too quickly."

I bite my lip, brain fogging with pleasurable need. "Just keep your knees open, be good for me little one."

Forcing her legs open longer, Tabitha begins to moan and squeak.

I become appreciative that I was able to at least keep one strong arm. A strong arm and hand with fingers to feel her addictive flesh... and sight in one eye to watch her melt over my caress.

My longest two fingers in the middle of my hand plunges into her core, fucking her like a cock and nearly arching her body from off of the bed.

Her walls clench down upon my digits, crushing them as I bang upon her sweet spot.

Tabitha begins to lose herself in enjoyment.

"Gods! Aegon, don't stop. Keep touching me— just don't stop." She dissolves into pleasure.

My heart flutters as if I can still feel my member become erect. I can't find satisfaction until I see her gorgeous face contort into tears from a good cum. "You like that? Fuck, you are absolutely beautiful my love."

I overheat, sweating from the most exercise I've had in weeks yet ignoring my pain to enjoy Tabitha's orgasm for the both of us.

"You'll have to ride it baby." I quickly demand. "Fuck my hand as if it were the last time you'd ever be touched."

Onto her knees, Tabitha sits on my hand as my digits find the insides of her tight cunt once more.

She begins to rock her hips... shouting as I swirl each finger against her cavity and let my fingers prune with her juices.

As Tabitha continues to buck, inching closer to her climax, her large pregnant tits bounce out of the top of her corset as does the curls out of her neat updo.

I beg earnestly for her to hover closer to me... As she leans my direction, my mouth suctions to her full breasts... nipping and sucking at her nipples as I devour her image and sounds, melting the memory of this day into my brain.

I kiss her neck and face as my hand begins to lose its feeling in it, I thank the Gods that my tongue once again has the chance to dance across her skin and I try my hardest not to leave love-bruises on her for her husband to find later.

A slow pace to her hips causes her to sink further down my fingers and my mouth hangs agape as I groan from the feeling of her pussy collapsing in on me.

"Yes..." I coo. "Yes, yes, sweet Tabitha, that is so good."

Twitching as her orgasm peaks, I notice her draw a breath in and feel the dire need to catch her exhale into my mouth. I swing my injured left arm to the back of her head and force her lips against mine, inhaling her expressive explosion and swallowing her choked sobs and the yummy cracks in the tone of her voice.

"Perfect." I worship. "—Just perfect."

Tabitha catches her breath, lightly smiling as our gaze meets and watching me devour her sticky nectar from off of my fingers. We moan in an overly satisfied kiss, sharing the sweet taste of her explosion.

I capture all of her beauty as I tuck her curls back into place and protect her virtue as I cover her bust back into her corset, easing the burlap sack of gold beside her breasts where no one shall find it.

Seeing her with my gold brings me joy, I could even die peacefully knowing that the gold will keep her and her family forever out of poverty.

My sweet girl's eyes begin to water. "Aegon—" She begins words that could only feel like a coming goodbye now that our time is running so short.

"Shhh." I softly hush her. "Just lay with me."

Regardless of my ugly scars, Tabitha lays her head against the skin of my chest... We enjoy the moment together, intwining our fingers as we hold hands... something we spent a many romantic night doing during our year together.

"Your Grace?" Maester Orwyle soon interrupts our nestle with the worse news. "It is time, Your Grace. There has been word that Aemond and his dragon Vhagar are nearing King's Landing. He is home early from his excursion. If I am to get the girl home safely, I must do it now."

...

My heart shatters, however, I must nod and do what's best for the safety of Tabby and her unborn child.

"Take her." I demand.

The Maester begins gently. "Lady Tabitha, please come with me."

She suddenly refuses. "Aegon, wait. Just another hour or so of conversation?"

I shake my head. "If I could, I would make it a lifetime. But I just can't spare it."

Maester Orwyle quietly gestures for the help of my guards.

I notice my knights in steel on their way to steal my lover from my arms, and I watch the pain and fear bubble into Tabitha's eyes.

"Wait!" She argues, pushing the men off of her. "Wait, what?! Damn you, Get your hands off of me!"

The guards tug on her roughly, lifting her off of the bed and to her feet as they pull her away.

Tears and anger begin to cause me more pain and distress than any burn ever could. "BE CAREFUL WITH HER DAMN IT." I begin to cough as I grit the words of my demands out strictly.

"Aegon, wait!" Tabitha begs as her arms are captured by two guards on each side of her. "Please! Just wait! Just hear me now."

"Guards." I demand. "Just—halt. Please, For one moment."

I take in a deep inhale of ragged breath that instantly burns my chest. "I am listening."

"I love you, Aegon." She bursts with a sudden admission.

My heart shatters into pieces. "Tabitha, please—"

"It is true." She interrupts. "I wish I fought harder for you. I love you, just please— just please say it back."

"And tell you what you already know? My dear, I will always love you." I gulp. "Tabitha, I never stopped loving you and I never will..."

...

I watch her gulp... she nods, hearing all that she needed to hear from me before finally being able to leave.

"Will we ever see each other again?"A soft final whimper escapes her tongue.

Gently I smile... "If the Gods allow it."

[uchihabbynic]

Trafalgar Law x Fem! Reader - Domestic Life ♡

content: SFW, married life with Law and you’re expecting a baby! so, mentions of pregnancy obvi, fluff, a tiny bit of angst, very brief mentions of Corazon & Law’s backstory. 

a/n: This is the most self-indulgent thing i’ve written in a super long time. So in love with him 🥺 this one’s for you my love! @jordyn-degas 💕

The delicate fragrance of cherry blossoms consumed your senses as you gently swayed in the wooden chair that sat on the front porch of you and your husband's shared home just outside of a quiet springtime island. Carefully cradling your baby bump - images of playtime, late night feedings and soft giggles filled your mind; soon overshadowing the memories of harsh seas and brutal battle wounds you were once accustomed to. 

You were thankful that your husband Trafalgar had retired from pirating and had settled in nicely to domestic, married life with you. It was all still a bit strange when you thought about your ex-Warlord husband now becoming a family man when the two of you often lived every day with the thought it could very well be your last.

The idea of raising a baby shook Law to his core. It was never something in the cards for him as he was just thankful to have made it past his 13th birthday but seeing the way his usually stoic face cracked into a face-splitting grin the moment you told him the news, you were thrilled to embark on this next adventure with the love of your life. 

“Fresh air treating you well, love?” Law questioned as he stepped outside onto the front porch next to you, the colorful wooden front door slamming behind him. 

You smiled up at your husband whose heavily tattooed hand was now outstretched in front of you; steel gray irises peeking down at you from underneath the brim of his signature hat. You interlock your fingers with his and with a sigh, stand up with Law’s assistance; your other hand never leaving the prominent bump. 

“Yes!” you said cheerily. “Thank you for buying us this house, Law. We really needed something of our own, now that the baby is almost here.” 

Law cracked a small smile and gently placed a firm hand on his daughter. “You two deserve only the best; besides, The Polar Tang was no place to raise a child.” Law momentarily reminisced about the submarine that got him and his loyal crew through many battles. 

While it wasn’t ideal to sell the Polar Tang, his crew understood wholeheartedly why he had to. However, this didn’t come without gut wrenching sobs from Bepo the day Law said goodbye to his trusty ship. Life was quickly changing and retiring meant letting go of the past to make way for this next phase. 

The moment you tried to step foot off the porch and into the grassy field below, Law scooped you up in his arms bridal style and began down the path into the city. “Law, what do you think you’re doing?” annoyance written all over your face as you lay cradled in your husband's arms. 

“Did you really think I was going to let you walk all the way to the shops on your own?” Law huffed, still holding you close to his chest. You involuntarily rolled your eyes in response at how overprotective your husband was being. 

“I can walk just fine, thank you.” You sighed dramatically, now petitioning to be let down. 

Law scowled, unamused that you wouldn’t let him carry you the entire way. Law was naturally protective in his nature, but ever since he found out that you were pregnant, the way he’d occasionally hover over you almost became insufferable. Perhaps, it was the doctor in him but you often had to remind your husband that you were capable of doing things on your own.

“Have it your way.” Trafalgar said with a shrug. He knew better than to argue with a heavily pregnant woman and decided not to protest against your wishes.

As you and Law made your way into town, hand in hand, you managed to find last minute baby essentials at a few small boutiques. Digging through the shopping bag with excitement evident in your eyes, you held up a cream colored dress with tiny hearts embroidered all over.

“What a steal! Cora is going to look so cute in this!” you gushed, holding the small article of clothing up to your husband's face. This was completely uncharted territory for Law and shopping was his least favorite activity but he knew how important this was to you and decided to entertain your excitement for new baby clothes. 

“Absolutely, dear.” Law had such a soft spot for you that it was impossible for his heart not to swell seeing you prepare for the baby. He knew you’d be such a great mother, much like the one he’d lost many years ago and found himself trying to hide the blush on his cheeks and his embarrassingly cheesy grin in the collar of his jacket. 

“Remember, Nico-ya asked that we be back at the house by 3pm, so we’ll need to wrap it up here soon.” Law reminded you as he was fully aware of the surprise baby shower the strawhats were planning for you in the backyard. 

“Of course hun, let’s just stop at one more place?” You sported the best set of puppy dog eyes you could, knowing that Law wouldn’t be able to resist you. With a groan, he nodded his head and grabbed your hand, letting you lead the way to the final shop. 

As you approached a small, locally owned boutique called The Pink Hippo, your eyes were immediately drawn to a fluffy white stuffed polar bear sitting in the window, one that looked similar to your real life friend, Bepo! 

“Law, look!” you pointed eagerly at the stuffed animal. Law couldn’t help but chuckle, noticing the resemblance between the toy and his ex subordinate. 

“Do you want to get this for the baby?” he asked, staring at you, only to be met with that beautiful glimmer in your eye he absolutely adored. With a nod, you pulled Law inside and grabbed the toy from the window and immediately went to stand in line. Today was a day where you splurged a little, not limiting yourself to how many Berries you and Law had originally budgeted out for. 

15 minutes had passed and the line hadn’t moved an inch. A searing pain shot through your lower back causing you to hiss. Law snapped his head to look at you, startled by your outburst. Law placed a gentle hand on  your lower back, rubbing small circles in an attempt to soothe your pain. 

“Y/N-ya, do you need to sit down?!” Law said in a quiet whisper, sounding slightly panicked but quickly composed himself to ensure he could support you in the way you needed. 

“Shit, yeah.” you groaned, now rubbing your own back. “I’m going to sit on that bench outside and wait. I’ve been standing for way too long.” Law was hesitant to let you leave his presence but he knew that letting you rest was what was best for you at that moment. 

When you managed to waddle outside and plop down on the nearest bench, giving your back and ankles a rest - Law didn't hesitant to stick his head out far enough to check on you through the shop window as the line slowly began to shuffle forward. He’d worked hard to simply survive and overcome many trials just to get to where he was at today and he’d be damned if he let the best thing to ever happen to him slip through his fingers. 

No sooner than you got settled, awaiting your husband’s return from the boutique, you heard shuffling in a nearby alleyway. Your head snapped over your shoulder to check if anyone was lurking nearby but nothing out of the ordinary caught your attention. With a shrug, you turned back around assuming that you’d clearly just been hearing things. Moments later, you felt a cool, metal blade pressed firmly against your neck from behind. You immediately cradled your stomach and went into “Mommy Defense Mode”. You did everything you could to stay calm and not agitate the assailant. 

“Do what I say and no one has to get hurt.” The deep voice croaked out from behind sending chills down your spine. You squeezed your eyes shut cursing yourself at your current state because any other time, you would have sprung into action and kicked ass, however; now that you were carrying precious cargo, you weren’t left with many options of defending yourself. 

“Stand up, bitch!” The man boomed, still pressing the blade taut against the skin, now grabbing hold of your arm. “I know you had quite the bounty on yer’ head, so, I could sell a pretty thing like you.” The attacker snickered; evil dripping from his tongue. 

Goosebumps pricked your skin and tears stung the corners of your eyes as you felt foreign hands all over your body, desperately trying to drag you away until a familiar voice instantly soothed your discomfort. 

“ROOM!” With his fingers spread in front of him, a large blue sphere appeared, encapsulating you, Law and the attacker. Law’s heart felt like it’d burst seeing another pirate’s grimy hands all over you. He cursed himself for ever taking his eyes off of you. 

“SHAMBLES!” With no time to think and a flick of the wrist, Law used his Ope Ope no Mi ability to swap the blade against your neck with a flimsy wooden stick. The attacker's eyes practically bulged from his head when he saw the way in which Law quickly disarmed him.  

“Y-You’re … You’re …” The man stuttered, eyes full of fear, having immediately recognized the Trafalgar D. Water Law, notorious ex-pirate and Warlord. While he was no longer an active member of the pirate community, Law was iconic and had made a name for himself in the New World and all across the seas. Any low level pirate would be stupid to mess with what was his, especially if they didn’t possess even a fraction of the Haki that Law did.

“You scum!” Law screamed, gray eyes staring into the pirate’s own like daggers. “Attacking my pregnant wife?! How DARE you!” Law’s voice boomed throughout the city streets causing a vein to prominently bulge from his forehead. 

The attacker scurried away with his tail between his legs, having quickly realized that he fucked with the wrong woman. Sweat beats raced down Law’s face as he ran to accompany you. His heart felt like it’d burst as he replayed the scene that just occurred in his head. 

“Y/n-ya! Are you ok?! How’s the baby?!” Law frantically spewed question after question as he carefully examined you from head to toe. You buried your head into your husband’s chest, sniffling and trying to regain your composure. The amount of stress you experienced wasn't good for your little bundle of joy and so you knew that it was time to go home. 

“I- I’m a little shaken up, but I’m fine.” you managed to squeak out. “Thank God you came when you did.” Law frowned, angry with himself that you ended up in danger the moment you were left to your own devices. Law kneeled down and wrapped his arms around your midsection, for once - not caring that you were in a public setting and placed a gentle kiss on your belly. 

“I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to you two …” he said shakily, breathing still clearly accelerated. “I couldn’t live with myself had I not protected you.” 

You could see the worry in Law’s glassy eyes as he finally peered up at you over your stomach - an emotion that rarely came through, which caused you to pull your husband to his feet. You reached up and carefully cupped his cheek, sideburn tickling your fingers and pulled his face down to yours. 

“I love you. Thank you for always protecting us.” You whispered loud enough for only your husband to hear and placed a soft kiss on his lips. 

In an ordinary scenario, Law wouldn’t allow such an intimate moment to transpire outside the confines of your shared home but given the fact that he almost lost you and his child in the blink of an eye, he let himself melt into the sweet kiss. 

“Let’s get you home, y/n-ya.” 

After a long shopping day in the city, you were grateful to be approaching your home that sat just over the hill. Laughter and music could be heard the closer you got to your home which caused you to turn to Law, with a confused expression on your face. 

“Law, what’s going on?” you asked, now approaching your front door, zoning in on the melodic tunes of Brooks' violin and Luffy’s boisterous laughter from around back. “I’ve had enough surprises for one day…” 

“The strawhats put together a little something for you … I just couldn’t oppose it.” Law explained. “Go change into something nice and meet us in the backyard.” 

You shot Law an annoyed glare, taking offense that he’d asked you to change. “What’s wrong with what I have on?!” you yelped. The pregnancy hormones were fierce and let’s face it, it’d been hours since you’d eaten so you could feel yourself getting angrier by the moment. 

“Nothing, dear.” Law calmly reassures you. “I just figured you’d want to be a bit dressier for photos.” 

“Fine.” you huffed as you walked inside to change. Law walked around back to see what exactly the crew had put together. Luffy immediately spotted Law and jumped up from where was sitting. 

“Tra-guy!! Congratulations!!” Luffy cheered, with both fists in the air. Law cringed and buried himself into the collar of his jacket at the way Luffy put all the attention on him. 

“Can we at least wait for my wife to get out here?!” Law grumbled, knowing Luffy meant well but hated being the center of attention in a crowded space.

 Looking around the crowd of his loud and lively guests, he just knew you’d appreciate being around your friends after the shockingly eventful day you’d just had. 

You finally settled on wearing a beautiful pink floor length gown, with sleeves that expertly hung and clung off the shoulder gripping you in all the right spaces, highlighting the adorable bump you’d worn for the past 8 months. As you smoothed your dress, you took a deep breath and made your way to the back deck, unsure of what shenanigans you were walking into.

As you swung the door open you were greeted with an array of blush and ivory colored balloons, confetti, a “It’s A Girl” sign, a huge buffet of food and all the smiling faces of your fellow Strawhats and Heart Pirates. 

“There she is!” Usopp happily spoke up and pointed in your direction as everyone’s heads turned, taking notice of the sparkly white grin plastered on your face. The space was filled with so much love and adoration, your heart felt as though it’d explode. 

“Y/N-swannnn! You look absolutely radiant, darling!” Sanji cooed with heart eyes as he outstretched his hand towards you and held a plate of hor d'oeuvres in the other. Law grumbled and pushed Sanji’s arm out of the way, taking your hand instead and carefully helped you down the stairs. 

Robin and Nami both gathered, ‘oohing’ and 'aahing’ over how pretty you looked in your dress. “You look absolutely beautiful, dear.” Robin gushed as you followed the girls to a nearby table. 

“We have tons of food, y/n! Come get it before I eat it all!” Luffy cackled obnoxiously as he continued to shove his face with a stick of meat. 

“-And booze!” Zoro piped up, as he slurped from the giant barrel of sake that he brought from his personal stash. Nami rolled her eyes in response, “She can’t drink that, idiot!” she said, sounding exasperated dealing with the boys all afternoon.  

You couldn’t help but burst into laughter at the way your crew mates all gathered together to celebrate the life of your new baby. As exhausted as you were, you felt you owed it to your friends to hang around a bit and enjoy the celebration they worked hard to put together. 

“Let’s start with opening gifts everyone!” Chopper yelled, jumping up and down ensuring that he gained attention from all the guests. 

“Here, Y/N, open mine first.” Chopper said sweetly, handing you a perfectly wrapped gift box. 

As you and Law took your respective seats in the “Mr and Mrs” chairs, the gifts began piling in at your feet. As you tore into the gift box, your face lit up to see that Chopper had gifted the baby a small pink hat adorned in an “X” and small brown antlers. 

“Chopper, this is adorable!” you beamed, as the small reindeer climbed upon your lap. Chopper’s cheeks turned bright red at the compliment. “You really love it? I had it specially made!” Your heart was so full seeing how enthusiastic he was about his present.

 “Of course! The baby is going to love it! Thank you!” You gave chopper a small pat on the head to which he did a small happy dance where he sat. 

“Your compliment doesn’t make me happy at all!” The embarrassed reindeer quipped back causing you to chuckle softly before jumping off of your lap. 

“Yohohohooo!” Brook hurried over with a small box in hand and gently placed it on your lap. “You’re going to love what I got the baby, y/n!” The skeleton said, absolutely. This time, you handed the gift to Law allowing him to open some gifts. 

“Here, how about you open this one, love?” 

“I suppose I will.” Law replied as he peered down at the small box now in his hands, meticulously unfolding each corner of the wrapping paper. Luffy snorted and scooted closer, now becoming impatient. 

“Oi! Tra-guy! What’s the hold up?! Let’s see the gift already!” Luffy piped up, sticking his nose right next to Law’s face and outstretching his arm in an attempt to snatch the present. Law grit his teeth and snarled; you could practically see the smoke billowing from his ears. 

“Idiot! Knock it off!” Law grabbed the gift once more, prying it from Luffy’s fingers. Nami eventually stepped up in the midst of the commotion holding her head. 

“Both of you stop it! You’re ruining this moment for y/n!” Nami yelled at the two boys who clearly shared half a brain cell, desperate to get the focus back on the gift reveal. Nami’s voice echoed, causing Zoro to abruptly wake from his nap, where he was peacefully resting under a cherry blossom tree, with all 3 swords posted up next to him. 

“Can’t a guy squeeze in a nap around here?!.” Zoro grumbled under his breath as he settled himself back down under the fragrant tree that bloomed all year round. Nami and Law shot him a death glare, wondering why Zoro even bothered showing up to begin with.

As Law finally opened Brook’s gift, a chorus of praises rang out as a tiny music box was pulled from the carefully wrapped box. You and Law had said your thank you’s as the gifts kept pouring in from all sides. The baby shower really ended in a success as you were truly spoiled - the food, the games, the good company; It all made you take a moment to look around and see how much love your precious daughter was being born into. The crew that you’d fought endless battles and gone on mind blowing adventures with had shown up for you once again when you needed them the most and for that, you were forever grateful. 

2 months later - 

Quiet whimpers turned to an ear-splitting shrill cry as baby Cora had awoken from her sleep. Now only being a month old, you were trying to adjust to life of new parenthood and boy, was this a challenge. However, the last 30 days had been filled with a newfound tenderness and warmth as Law delivered your healthy baby girl in the comfort of your home.

You peeled your heavy, tired eyes open, rapidly blinking to adjust to the darkness of your bedroom but before you could lift your head off the pillow, Law had already sat up in bed next to you, ready to attend to his daughter. 

“Go back to sleep love, I’ll grab her.” Law whispered, the tiredness in his own eyes more evident than ever before. Having dealt with insomnia his entire life, being awake at all hours of the night was certainly not uncharted territory. 

You mumbled something about the breast milk being prepped in the fridge as your head hit the pillow once more and that was all he needed to hear before Law carefully scooped up the little girl and cradled her, carrying her to the kitchen. 

As Law prepared the milk for his daughter, he couldn’t help but stare at her in awe, heavy emotions consuming every fiber of his being. Looking down at the beautiful baby girl who wore a pile of messy black hair and eyes to match her mothers, he felt his heart skip a beat. 

How could he make something so tiny and precious? Him. The Surgeon of Death. It all felt so surreal as he swayed the infant ever so slightly, attempting to soothe her cries. 

Images of Corazon flashed in his mind, causing a tear of his own to form. The man who raised him, gave his life so that he could live was his constant motivation for being the best father he could be. In moments where he doubted himself and his ability to be nurturing in the way babies needed, Cora-san was always the angel on his shoulder cheering him on, giving him silent encouragement to keep going and he knew that if he could see him now - having made it to 30, married and thriving as a father, that he would be so proud. 

A single tear dropped as Law stared down at his daughter who was now happily suckling milk with her eyes gently closed and a tiny hand wrapped around his tattooed finger. Tender moments like these are one’s he cherished and wished would never end. 

“I’ll never let anything happen to you, little one.” Law’s silky voice cracked, finding himself choked up and in admiration of his creation, he planted a single feather like kiss on the infant's forehead, enjoying every bit of this newfound domestic life ♡ 

tags: @unsuretater-simp​

[sillysarahsthings]

Thank you @koolaidoverliving for the request! (Aw that's so sweet thanks :3)

I didn't do much on Candy Pop and Jason the toymaker, because they were pretty much side characters. I had to go through their stories again lol

Candy Pop works in purgatory, they're a fallen angel who refused to go to hell. (Slay ✨)

Their job is to reap soul and guide them through purgatory.

They still have their trusty hammer for reaping and use the purple balloon mainly for children. (They're not comfortable using their hammer on kids.)

Uses cards to show parts of a souls life, they can also be used as weapons but they prefer the hammer.

Overall a very silly jester and possibly the only happy person in purgatory.

As for Jason, I didn't know what to do for him and I didn't exactly understand his story all that much but I put him in Jack's backstory as Falco's (the guy who made Jack's music box.) assistant.

He's still the same guy that likes to turns people into dolls.

He was existed before LJ and was taught how to make demon toys by Falco.

His hair does turn white but only when he's angry or feels vulnerable.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Can you do a Buddy Daddies imagine where Rei has to act like a couple with his crush for a job?

Rei Suwa + Reader - Fake Date

“Your table is right this way. Please follow me.”

“Thank you so much.” Though you beam a smile at the waiter, you also have to practically drag Rei by the arm to get him to follow. Luckily, they were already linked in this ‘lovey dovey couple’ act you had going on.

The job this week was to get information on a corporate billionaire, out to dinner with his mistress. Not an interesting or newsworthy element of the job, as everyone knew he cheated on his wife, but who else he was having dinner with was. 2 chiefs of staff, a liaison diplomat, and the rat that put this all together, each with their on rent-to-own bimbo for the evening; financed by their gracious host in a blatant display of corporate malfeasance.

You had been hired to collect intel on the event and report back to the client. A competitor, or the actual government, you weren’t sure. So long as they paid you didn’t ask questions.

The problem was that this restaurant was too posh and expensive to go to alone without being conspicuous. So you have reached out to Rei and Kazuki for help. Kazuki had been happy to assist, even getting out his trusty spy gear for the cause. But at the last minute he got a nasty cold. Making it impossible to go on the mission as, aside from his raging fever, his coughing would blow your cover immediately.

So Rei, reluctantly, stepped in.

“Can you try not to act like this is the end of the world?” You asked through a gritted smile once the waiter left. “You’re out to dinner with a beautiful woman at a 5-star restaurant. There are worse ways to spend an evening.”

“I’d rather be playing video games.”

You sigh, and put your chin in your hand. Pretending to look dreamily at Rei, while your ring camera was pointed at the target table a few rows over. “I’m sorry I had to drag you out tonight. I’ll make it up to you.”

“The mission is important.” He said. Finally sitting up straight.

The waiter came over with your menus, and you had to pull your camera away from the targets. “Let’s just get drinks and dessert. If we drag it out then it won’t raise alarm, and we can get you home in time for late night streaming.”

“Are you gonna play?”

You look up over your menu at Rei, who was looking up over his menu at you as well, and smirk. “Of course.” You could see him smile, just a hair, behind the ornate leather before he ducked his head back down.

Ordering champagne and oysters, neither of which Rei touched, you continued to monitor the targets casually. “How much intel do you have to get?”

“I don’t know.” He was clearly getting antsy sitting here doing nothing. Rei was a do’er. A triggerman. The nuances of espionage, let alone corporate espionage, were not his forte. “I’ll know it when I see it.” You sip your champagne and pick at the ice on the oyster tray a little more.

Suddenly, one suit leaned into another, and then the second leaned into the big boss and passed him an envelope. “Seen it.” You make sure to take some extra still pictures with the camera hidden in your clutch of the deal for security, then put it away as you turn to Rei with a smile. “Ok. We can go now.”

“Finally.”

Rei called the waiter over and paid for the check before coming over to the other side of the table to help you from your seat. Like a gentleman.

“I’ll pay you back for the meal.” You told him, once you were out of the restaurant and far enough away from any potential eavesdroppers. Certain you weren’t followed. “With these babies I’ll be able to pay you back ten-fold.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You look over at Rei, his shoulder slumped again and hands in his pockets. “Aww…that’s sweet. And here I thought this was just a pretend date.”

“It’s not like I need the money.”

You chuckle at little as you continue to walk. Silent, save for the sound of the cars driving by now & then. “Are you coming over?”

“I thought you wanted me on the stream. I can’t really do that if we’re on the same consol.”

“We can do teams battle instead.”

You grin at Rei and step closer to link your arms again, like you did in the restaurant. “Sounds like my kind of date.”

[soobadnoonecanstopher]

Can I Stay? (A Baekhyun Story) Part 2.

Pairing: You x Baekhyun

Rating: M

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: Longing looks, unspoken stolen glances, daydreams and overreactions, an unspecified age difference, an English story that uses the word Noona for lack of another word in English that carries the same feeling, if you don’t like this, then don’t read this story.

Author‘s note: remember all those years ago I said I’d write a Baekhyun x Noona fic? This is that fic.

Inspired by the Ray LaMontagne song Can I Stay

Tag List: @andimoon @his-mochi-cheeks

Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The important parts of the meeting were a blur.

The very important, critically vital, future deciding parts of that meeting, yeah, that meeting filled to the absolute brim with the most VIP of VIPs was all kind of a blur.

You probably did fine. You’d done enough of these by now that you knew you could trust your mind to perform expertly on autopilot.

Metrics to report? You had them.

Deliverables? In spades.

Facts to show where your team outshone the others? Child’s play.

Story after story of your team’s very clear successes with you, their trusty captain at the helm? You had too many to recount, even when you picked just the best scenarios it still felt like bragging.

But that was the point of these things. Showing off for the people who mattered; the senior directors, the production team leaders, the deep pockets, the huge investments, and the big opinions who’s fortunes grew fat and heavy off the backs of the labor of thousands. The decision makers, the cord cutters, and the trigger pullers were all present today.

Meetings like this didn’t happen often but when they did they always mattered.

As you went through your slides and your carefully planned speech you kept your eyes steadily ahead of you at a level just above all of their heads. You’d occasionally allow your gaze to touch upon a few select sets of eyes such as the Company’s Vice President’s no nonsense eyes that watched the presentations with expert level eagle eyes ready to pop off a difficult question at a moment's notice for some of the less prepared members of this upper management team. You’d had none from her. Only a rare tick of her head with an impressed eyebrow lift and an even rarer concealed smile toward you as you were speaking. Many of the others eyes that watched you had far too much pressure when you allowed yourself to lock on, so you mostly looked at the foreheads and you kept your wits about you.

You only very briefly held President Byun’s eyes — the President of this company who had famously worked his way up from the bottom, or so his Wikipedia page said.

The President’s eyes bore a striking familiarity in their shape and in their color to his son’s. A superficial familiarity, because something deeper was very different from the set of eyes that carelessly burned a hole right into the very center of your chest almost an hour ago out there in that secluded hallway.

You could physically feel that same careless set of eyes on you now. A tingling sensation came from the left section of the room where the assistants to the management team stood by armed to the teeth with items ranging from a fresh set of batteries for a wonky laser pointer, a spare laptop for a machine on the fritz, to a box of every single cable and adapter and connector known to all of current and past technology on the off chance that some important person with enough zeros in their bank account might wish to connect a 1991 LaserDisc player to the several thousand dollar HD projector system installed in this meeting hall.

You were winding down now, finishing off with a well received joke that brought out an audible chuckle from the room and you could feel the pressure lessen as you easily answered the few questions that were posed.

You couldn’t help the way your eyes began to drift to the left side of the room. As if you had been called by him, your gaze moved so damned easily. It was probably because your speech was all done and you’d reached the end of the slide. You’d never quite mastered exiting one of these things with poise and ease and when your eyes drifted over they naturally settled right onto Baekhyun’s face.

The feelings that coursed through you were conflicted. Comfort and concern. Sanctuary and danger. You wanted to look at him. He felt like a friend and a comrade in here amongst so many others that expected and demanded so much from you. He was safe. He had been safe. He’d helped you prepare for the weeks leading up to this and you knew he was on your side. And you’d been holding it in so well. No one suspected a thing, you were sure of it. You’d been on top of the pesky crush you’d been hiding ever since you met him. And it had been just that. Just a silly passing crush.

You had fully planned on saying goodbye to him in three weeks time and moving on with your life with yet another unrequited love under your belt and a few unrealized fantasies in your head to hold you over until you found enough hours in the day to actually start dating someone. Someone closer to your level. A similar enough age not to raise any eyebrows at work, and a similar family background. Just someone normal and definitely not someone from a family like Byun Baekhyun’s. While the age gap between you and Baekhyun wasn’t completely unheard of, the gap in social status was pretty vast. Sure you’d reached a level of professional success through sacrifice and hard work but every single hard earned dollar you’d made was the result of your own efforts.

How would you even begin to compare to this man? Baekhyun and you came from entirely different worlds.

How much trouble would you be in if all these leaders found out you were falling in love with their very own untouchable Prince? How much of him were you actually allowed and how far would your fall from grace be if you took too much?

Baekhyun’s smile was wide and genuine and his eyes shaped into little half circles. His hands were moving with the silent secret applause he gave you with just the tips of his fingers before shooting two quick thumbs up in your direction. You held your breath as you looked at him. You found it difficult to do both of those things simultaneously it seemed.

‘You’re so cool!’ He mouthed and you pulled your lips in between your teeth to keep your face impassive. It was self preservation. You knew you should not have looked for him at all.

The room was in motion again as the next team manager took to the center of the room. You took your seat for the rest of the meeting and steadied your gaze to the front of the room. You would not, absolutely would not waver.

But your memory, like your eyes earlier, drifted in his direction. You stared straight ahead ignoring the strong pins and needles feeling over your skin that came from the assistants section and your mind replayed the feeling of his long thin fingertips slipping along the surface of your face. His fingertips that touched along your jaw at first then moved higher. So light it felt like silk over a porcelain vase until those fingers threaded into your hair behind your ear, his pinky at the nape of your neck, his thumb pressing over your earlobe and the soft warmth of his palm along your jaw, guiding your face to him; urging you into his lips.

His lips and the yielding uncertainty in them.

His lips and the warmth of the exhale from his nose.

His lips, begging and your own, too scared to reply.

The speaker at the front of the room had said something funny. An audible chuckle sounded out around you and you dropped your hand from your face quickly and your index finger released its touch on your bottom lip and you looked around, chastising yourself for letting your mind wander in this way. The slight panic that you’d missed something important pulled at your nerves and your eyes, out of habit, sought out the familiar.

You found him so easily. He stood out like a sparkling Diamond in a room of rocks. The giggle in the room was winding down but those brown eyes were already locked into yours the second yours found his. Baekhyun’s expression was flat and serious and it was obvious that he, like you, wasn’t laughing. Perhaps he had missed the joke as well. Baekhyun was quiet and he was motionless, sitting amongst a group of assistants who could never really be his peers, they all giggled and whispered among themselves all worked up from the end of this tortuous meeting or from the entertaining speech they’d all been witness to, you couldn’t be certain.

You caught onto his eyes from across the meeting room. There was a moment of almost peace, when you looked at his serious face and he stared at you in silence, clearly lost inside his own thoughts.

The moment did not last long because his eyes seemed to widen and a bubble had popped, awakening him or alerting him, his posture changed and he pulled back instantly, averting his gaze with a recoil of his features he lifted a hand to rub over his face; he looked away from you. You wondered what had him so engrossed. What had been interrupted inside of his mind just now.

Had your own self resolve been weaker, the curiosity might just eat you alive from the inside out like acid.

Bodies were moving around the room. Your name was called by many a friendly smiling face pulling someone you simply just had to meet. Your introductions were filled with flattery on the excellent work you always produced. You were humble and you were grateful.

Out of the corner of your eye you caught the bounce of a blonde head of hair in the crowd as the small groups mingled about.

“My son has been making his way through the company learning the ropes from the very best we have in each department!” A deep voice boomed and your ears caught a few friendly chuckles as responses as one important man showed off to a group of other important men.

“When are you moving onto the next team?”

“I want to stay where I am for longer. I still have a lot to learn from my manager.” You were close enough to make out Baekhyun’s voice through the murmur of the crowds around you.

“Nonsense,” the old man began and to your surprise, Baekhyun’s voice firmly interrupted.

“No, not nonsense, Dad. I’m staying on this team for two more projects, at least. Maybe more. I haven’t even been involved in the beginning and end of anything yet because My Daddy keeps moving me around like a chess piece just to one-up his friends.” Baekhyun’s voice was quiet enough for the others in this room not to hear him, but you’d grown so accustomed to his particular way of speaking that you could just make out every word he spoke to his father, despite how under his breath he tried to keep it.

“How am I supposed to show my face around these people if you keep pulling me out before anything gets finished? How do you think that makes me look? Do you think that earns me any of their respect?”

Your curiosity betrayed you when you turned your head around just enough to catch the determined look on Baekhyun’s face. You felt a strange mixture of shock and pride watching him respond with such purpose and confidence to his father’s whims that you felt your jaw drop open just a little just from the surprise of witnessing this. You were so caught up in what he was saying and how he was saying it that the small tick of his eyes in your direction caught you off guard and made you flinch. How long had he known you were here? He certainly didn't let your eavesdropping stop him from making his point. His eyes touched yours only for a moment before he inhaled a steadying breath, lifted his chin and spoke his final piece.

“Respectfully, If you want to be able to trust me with your company in the future you need to start trusting my judgment about my life right now, Sir.”

The old man didn't speak right away but Baekhyun’s eyes didn't stay on his father’s face. Those flighty eyes of his gave you away instantly. President Byun turned his head, following his son’s eyes to find you standing close by; not close enough for it to be obvious that you had heard the entire exchange, but your proximity to and your current work with Baekhyun certainly made you feel guilty for lurking around the two family members having a private conversation.

The president didn’t betray any conceivable suspicions he may or may not have had of you, but you did find yourself pulled forward out of your duty to the company and pure politeness.

You greeted them both with a smile and respectful head nod and even reached out to shake President Byun’s hand as he addressed you by name and complimented your presentation. It was a conversation that had been repeated all afternoon and you responded in kind, giving humble appreciation for your excellent team and their efforts.

You’d expected the pleasantries to be the end of it, but the President kept speaking with a wry smile and a genuine twinkle in his eyes this time.

“So you are the reason why my son suddenly has the guts to stand up to me for the first time in his life,” he remarked matter of factly and you heard the deep chest filling breath Baekhyun slowly inhaled beside you. He then cleared his throat out loud and crossed his arms over his chest. The gesture had no effect on the old man who was clearly not new to embarrassing his children.

“Baekhyun has been an incredible addition to my team. I haven’t known him for very long but what I knew right away was that your son has an incredible sense of conviction and determination — he must take after you in that regard.”

This brought a grin to the President’s face and he reached out a heavy hand to lay over his son’s shoulders. Baekhyun’s face held a barely concealed wince and he rocked back and forth on stiff legs. He really should have tried harder to control his face. You’d had the same forced smile on your lips for a solid hour and a half now and your cheeks were starting to go numb from the efforts. For a man who smiled as easily as Baekhyun did, he really didn’t seem to be able to turn it on at a moment’s notice when he didn't genuinely mean it.

“I’ll tell you what,” President Byun turned to speak to you, “You turn him into you and I’ll promote you to Director.”

You pushed the final laugh out of your chest at the ridiculous promise and you said your farewells. You really needed this meeting to be over so you could get out of these heels and into the quiet sanctity of your office. You had several tasks left for the day and not enough hours left in the work day to get them done.

You gathered your things and you gathered your own important person and you left. While, no, you didn’t physically drag Baekhyun out of there, he followed on his own without so much as a word or even a glance from you. Your silent egress down the hallway toward the elevator was echoed by the familiar comfort of his quiet trailing footsteps. When you paused inside the elevator with a light hand to keep the doors open, he kept his eyes down at his feet and stepped inside.

The elevator doors closed and you stared ahead of yourself at the blank silver elevator side panel and he stared ahead at the numbers panel and you instantly missed the excitable chatty assistant you had before today.

This Baekhyun was too quiet and too serious. This Baekhyun was holding his breath beside you and you knew it because when you stole a glance at his face his cheeks were pink and his eyes and mouth were all closed up tight, ready to pop.

It seemed a nerve was being worked up.

It seemed maybe something was incoming and your hackles began to raise. This was the last thing you wanted to happen inside this enclosed space with no escape.

Perhaps it would be an apology for the stolen kiss in your sanctuary. An apology for taking that particular funny joke too far just for the sake of laughing at you.

You weren’t always like this; cynical and mistrusting. Sometimes you let the delusions play out. A microscopic voice inside whispered a hopeful and naive, ‘perhaps it would be a confession.’ You bit down a little on the side of your tongue to keep from making a sound. Someone like him? Surely he had his pick of women. He was so handsome, young, smart, capable, and he came from money. The kind of money that controlled the world.

You were a few of those things, you had your own money, not the world controlling kind but you could take a nice vacation anywhere in the world and even travel first class without batting an eye, and you even had your fair share of suitors. Hell, just this morning the creepy married father of two in your building ogled you in the elevator — gave you the old up and down and a suggestive wink.

And when you got off the bus at work this morning the homeless man across the street who usually shouted nice ass, changed it up and shouted nice tits at you and he was right. Your tits did look nice today. And perhaps the most eligible, most exciting of your suitors, the handsome new barista behind the counter at Starbucks who for three days in a row, had drawn a small sharpie heart after your name on your coffee cup. That could be flirting, right? The tiny little black thing perfectly drawn, as if he’d taken his time with it like he might, with you.

There was a change in Baekhyun’s face. You saw his lips purse outward and he slowly began to exhale the breath he had been holding. His cheeks were still pink but his eyes were open and he cleared his throat and angled his torso toward you a tiny bit.

It was happening, he was ready to apologize for playing silly tricks on you.

He was ready to pull apart that hole inside of your chest with his slippery fingertips and let out the last scattered fragments of your self esteem.

“Miss Manager,” he addressed you, alone in this quiet elevator without anyone else around to care, without his usual nickname for you. His voice held a seriousness that you’d never heard from him before. It made the air inside of this elevator feel stale and stuffy and you looked away from his grave face and his trembling lips.

The first words out of his mouth burned as they hit.

He didn’t call you Noona. He always called you Noona. From the very beginning there was affection and endearment in that word he used to address you by and you had been annoyed by his audacity and the unearned familiarity of that word at first, but the absence of it in this very moment paired with that look on his face and his flat out refusal to meet your eyes had your mind reeling and your skin crawling from the emptiness of it all.

Three more weeks. You had three more weeks, or less if his father decided to pull him sooner.

Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it would hurt less to sever the ties of familiarity now and go back to a strictly professional relationship with your temporary assistant Byun Baekhyun.

The elevator dinged and the doors opened and you inhaled a swift breath to speak.

“If you are going to apologize to me, there is no need. Let’s both just pretend it never happened.” You struck hard and you struck fast and you watched his face just long enough for the realization to hit him. You watched his face just long enough to see the quick blinking in his eyes and the way his jaw muscles clenched down hard.

It was better this way. He wouldn’t get attached to the Noona who didn’t deserve his sweet nicknames and you wouldn’t have to survive being left again. Not that your last several romantic relationships were anything to compare to this functional strictly work relationship but there was a sort of sick satisfaction in you finally being the one to say it first.

‘This is over.’

‘We should end this.’

‘I’m in love with someone else.’

‘She’s pregnant, I’m sorry.’

He was stuck in the elevator again.

“Assistant Byun, are you coming?” You couldn’t help yourself with the overly formal title. Afterall, he started it with that Miss Manager shit inside the elevator and you could feel your emotions getting the better of you as he stood there silently watching you without moving his feet.

You had tasks to finish for the day. You both had so much work to get done.

He wasn’t moving.

“Are you mad at me?” His question was as small as it was childish. This was a professional workplace. Your jaw dropped and your head tilted and you just looked into his eyes for a second. Was this man really asking you this just outside of your office where your entire team worked?

Yes. Yes maybe you were mad at him, but you’d be damned if he knew about it. You closed your eyes and inhaled slowly.

“No,” you lied and he watched your face too closely so you spun around on your heels and walked swiftly back to your office, taking quick steps through the rows of cubicles filled with your team members to reach your office door and you pulled it open, half wondering if he was still stuck back in that stupid elevator. Maybe you could send him a chair and a desk so he could get some work done in there.

Inside of your office was quiet. You had your plants in the corner beside the window that offered a nice view of the city and your desk was covered with stacks of files that needed your attention. You kicked off your shoes and tossed them away. Your blinds were open to the rest of the team’s area and a few minutes after you entered and heard the single click of the door behind closing you telling you that you were completely alone at last.

Then another sound happened.

The door opening again, the door closing again, the sound of a human body inside of this closed office with you. A body who had sprinted across the crowded office full of your entire team, no doubt calling insane amounts of attention to himself in the process and you heard the telltale sounds of that human body behind you, somewhere lower now toward the floor.

To your horror, you spun around quickly to find Baekhyun down on his knees with his head hung low and a look of severe penance on his pretty face. The blinds of your office were open and several curious faces peered around their computer screens, trying to get eyes on whatever was going on in the bosses office right now.

You rushed to the blinds, pulling them closed as quickly as you could, which you realize only makes things look that much worse and would only make those peering faces that much more invested in the drama.

“Baekhyun, get up. People are watching.”

You had to step around him to reach the next window. He was very much in the way.

“Not until you forgive me, Miss Manager.”

There it was again. You angrily yanked the last of the blinds closed and stood in place with a hand on your chest as you willed your emotions to calm down. This was work. It was ridiculous of you to be so upset at his title for you. Hadn’t you been the one insisting a month ago that he call you that?

Behind you, he was still down on the floor and you felt a tiny poke that stung on the back of your heel.

“You have a blister,” his voice whispered quietly before the sounds of his movement signaled that he was moving around the room.

Two hands landed on your shoulders and gave a gentle push. Your legs resisted at first but the push became less gentle and you risked either falling flat on your face or giving in to his pushing.

“Assistant Byun, I assure you, I am more than capable of handling my own blister.”

“Evidently not, Miss Manager, it is already popped and bleeding.”

The pushing turned to steering and his response to you was downright snarky sounding. You found yourself shoved into a side chair in the middle of your office and you landed with a huff, immediately crossing your arms over your chest and offering as hard a glare your eyes could manage.

You glared at the man who was crouched down on the floor in front of your feet and his eyes glared back at you with a matching intensity that took you off guard. Why was he mad? Was he mad just because you were mad? Without his own reason to be mad? How dare he?

He was gripping your foot. You gave the smallest tug, resisting this but his hand wrapped around tighter as he ticked his tongue in annoyance.

“Be still,” he scolded without earning any sort of authority at all. He was leafing through a first aid kit that you had no memory of ever seeing before in your office.

“I told you I could do it myself.” When you snapped back at him, his eyes shot up at you.

“Miss—” as soon as the first word of that stupid formal title left his lips you rolled your eyes hard. You had absolutely no control over it. It just pissed you off to hear coming from his lips. “-Manager,” he finished but his eyes widened marginally at your obvious reaction.

“Miss Manager?” He said again, softer this time with a question in his tone. You set your jaw, tightened your arms over your chest and looked across your office.

“Noona,” he called and your jaw unclenched as you bit down on your upper lip. You could feel warmth creeping up your neck and filling your cheeks and you swallowed away the saliva that pooled under your tongue and you did your absolute best not to look down at him.

“Noona,” he called again and your eyes darted down into his. Your eyebrows rose a few millimeters in response to him and gone was the snarkiness and glare in his eyes as he looked at your face. There was something softer brewing in those eyes that watched you now. You saw the beginnings of a smile on his lips.

“You’re cute when you’re mad,” he said with a lift of a single eyebrow and he looked down at your foot. He was spreading some sort of ointment over the open blister on your foot now that you’d stopped fighting him about it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Baek. I already told you I wasn’t mad.”

“You were so mad, you almost kicked me when I was begging for forgiveness earlier,” he said in a mock serious tone. He was pressing a bandage carefully onto the heel of your foot and you felt afroned by his baseless accusation. His joke. You did no such thing! You felt a small laugh escape your chest and you pushed forward with your foot, the one he was holding in his hand and pushed it lightly against his chest. His balance teetered but he stayed upright and held on tighter to your foot to keep his balance.

“I did not!” You felt the first giggles break free from your chest.

“Look! You just did it again! This is an abuse of power!” He was laughing now, and his hand still hadn’t released your foot even though the first aid care was complete.

The hand holding your foot had wandering fingertips that gently caressed the skin over your Achilles tendon, seemingly smoothing the already smooth bandage there. With his other hand he carefully dropped the pieces of wrapper from the bandage into the trash can beside the chair you occupied. Your eyes followed as his slim fingertips carefully and slowly dropped each tiny piece of trash one at a time into the basket, taking way too long with it. They floated down and landed on top of an empty Starbucks coffee cup with the name Baekhyun written in black sharpie followed by a little hand drawn heart.

Apparently that new Starbucks hussie drew hearts on everyone’s cups.

Just like that you were down another suitor.

“Help me, somebody, anybody. This lady is crazy. She only paints half of her toenails,” he was outright laughing now gesturing to one foot with bright pink polish and the other with completely bare toes. You remembered your failed attempt at a home self care spa day. You’d gotten through a half a bottle of wine and half of your toenails when your work phone rang and you had to abandon your other foot to deal with a work crisis that only you could fix.

It somehow made you feel just a little sad, hearing how hilarious he found you. And knowing he was right about how much of a mess you were — with only a married sleaze and a dirty catcalling street bum offering you any sort of real attention, even if it was the absolute worst kind of attention.

You pulled your foot away. He was done with you now, he could have his laugh all he wanted on his own.

You had work to do.

You resisted the urge to kick him for real and stood up quickly, extracting yourself from his seated body and you made your way toward safety behind your desk where he never dared to step.

Only this time you felt him behind you in an instant with his hands grabbing your arms and shaking with the smallest pout on his lips. His laughter had quit the instant you stood up.

“You’re not still mad at me, right?” He was shaking your arm, pulling you back from behind your desk, where he must have known he wasn’t allowed.

“Right?” He shook your arm again. You knew this tactic. You’d seen it before. He was trying to wear you down by being annoyingly cute and he was really, really good at it.

Your anger had dissipated a while ago. This wasn’t anger you were feeling and you sighed out loud with your expression calm and steady. The anger was long gone. You had reached the final stage — acceptance.

Baekhyun would be leaving soon. You and him, he and you, the two of you like this together, it had an expiration date.

“We should finish our work,” you spoke clearly and plainly and his eyes widened as the shaking of your arm stopped and the pout disappeared.

“All of it, Baek. We should finish everything. And we should do a good job so you can get the most out of the last few weeks you have here… with me.” The last two words came out as a whisper and you had been staring down at the stack of folders on your desk.

Baekhyun was looking at your face. Gone was the cutesy act and the mocking laughter on his voice and his next words pulled your attention up from endless folders of work you still had to do.

“Noona, Can I stay?”

[To be Continued]

Links: Can I Stay? Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5